Hungry Eyes
by Aksannyi
Summary: Tiva Dirty Dancing AU. The David family takes a trip to a resort where Tony is employed as a dance instructor. Tensions build when Tony and Ziva meet and begin to dance together. Loosely follows Dirty Dancing with some significant deviations. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Got You in my Sights

**Dirty Dancing AU. The David family takes a trip to a resort where Tony is employed as a dance instructor. Tensions build when Tony and Ziva meet and begin to dance together. Loosely follows Dirty Dancing with some significant deviations.**

 **As this is purely AU, there is no NCIS. Tony and Ziva are probably around the age that they would have been in Season 3, perhaps a few years younger than that, even. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Got You in my Sights**

* * *

Music that could only be classified as "oldies" crackled through the radio as Eli David turned the rented luxury car onto a back road, the surrounding mountains causing the reception to fade in and out, and both the static and the choice of music irritated Ziva to no end.

"Can you please turn that _off?"_ she grumbled from the backseat, casting a sideways glance at Tali, who had been asleep for the past several hours. Ziva rolled her eyes at her sister, who would be unable to come to her defense that the music was absolutely terrible.

"Why?" her mother asked in heavily accented English, turning her head toward the backseat. Eli had insisted that the whole family would speak English for the duration of the trip, even when not interacting with any Americans, so that Ziva's English would become perfect and better her chances for future employment. Eli had explained that Americans were often only welcoming of immigrants who "made an effort" with the language. Ziva thought her English was quite proficient, but there was no arguing with her father, so they'd started speaking the foreign tongue as soon as their plane had landed in New York.

"Because the … fuzz. It is aggravating!" A long sigh dragged from her chest as she leaned her head against the window of the car, trying to think of anything that might drown out the annoyance. Eli glared at her through the rearview mirror, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of meeting his gaze. He reached for the dial and turned it off, and Ziva smiled slightly to herself. Small victories were all she could manage to get from her father these days. Shifting her gaze over to her sleeping sister, her mood again turned sour at the reminder that Tali was the favored one now, even though Ziva was the one slated to follow in her father's footsteps. Rejecting Michael's proposal had turned her father hostile toward her, but Ziva refused to marry someone she didn't love, no matter how much her father had pushed her toward him.

"Oh look, how lovely," murmured Rivka from the front seat as they turned toward the resort, sweeping mountain views the backdrop to what appeared to be a diamond in the rough. The signage welcomed them to Vandenberg's Mountain Resort, and Ziva couldn't help but take in the surroundings with awe, for the views from the entrance alone were absolutely stunning.

The complex looked to be absolutely huge, which suited Ziva just fine. Although her family would be leaving her in the States after the summer was over, that seemed like an eternity from now and the endless array of complexes and attractions would make it easy to avoid her father's wrath. "Tali, wake up," she insisted, nudging her sister perhaps a bit more forcefully than necessary. She and Tali were close, but they were not without their share of the typical sibling squabbles.

"Why?" the girl yawned in Hebrew, forgetting her father's edict in her sleepy state. Tali sat up, slowly, blinking a few times before opening her eyes wide enough to see that they'd arrived. "Wow," she murmured, the only English word she could think of to describe what she was seeing.

Although Ziva had originally intended to act blasé about the vacation, she couldn't help but agree with her sister's assessment. This place was gorgeous, and as they pulled around and into the lobby area, she couldn't wait to get out and explore the grounds.

After just a few minutes, during which Eli signed a few papers and handed over his credit card, they were stepping back into their car for the drive to their guest house. "Mr. Vandenberg is busy at a meeting right now, Mr. David," the attendant pronounced the family name wrong, "but he has left specific instructions that you be shown to his finest guest house." Ziva was annoyed that her father didn't bother to correct the man. _I_ would have, she thought, her eyes narrowing into a glare.

But her father apparently knew the owner of the resort, Ziva surmised. She wondered, not for the first time, if there was anywhere she could go where her father would not know someone.

It wasn't long until they pulled up to where they'd be staying – a large villa with huge front-facing windows and clean, white lines. It was the last building in a long row of buildings, and from all appearances, the biggest. She wondered what it must cost to stay here, but after hearing that her father knew the owner, she doubted that he was paying the full rate, even though they could surely afford it.

They exited the car and stepped inside the house, into a grand foyer with vaulted ceilings. Tali spoke first, for the second time able to express the only word in English she could muster: "Wow." Again, Ziva agreed with her sister's assessment. There were no words better suited for what she was seeing.

"Each of us has a key," her father started, handing out key rings to each member of the family, adding, "keep it with you at all times." Ziva wasted no time in snatching the key from her father's hands and stepping back outside to grab her bags, eager to settle in and find her own space in the guest house.

She finally settled on a room toward the back of the house, a room that had a sliding glass door opening to a patio that spanned the entire length of the back of the house. Each bedroom had its own bathroom, and Ziva was certain that after some days spent taking long walks with Tali, playing some friendly sports, and even just laying out in the sun, the huge jacuzzi bathtub would be heaven on earth.

"I am going for a walk," she yelled down the hallway, and made her way to the door before anyone could stop her. They had been cooped up in the car for the last three hours, and she needed to get out and get away from her family for a while. She closed and locked the door behind her, taking a moment to suck in a huge sigh of relief. _Freedom_.

Perhaps this family vacation wouldn't be all that bad.

* * *

"You know, I shouldn't have let you come back here," Mr. Vandenberg started, leaning against the doorway of the dance studio, blocking the exit, "not after that stunt you and your partner over there pulled last summer."

Tony sighed, reaching for a nearby towel and wiping the sweat from his brow. "That wasn't even our fault," he protested, but decided not to continue when Vandenberg narrowed his eyes at him. He still needed this job, and he couldn't be antagonizing the boss.

"I could tell you to pack your bags right now," he threatened, biting down on a toothpick. "You too, missy," he added, nodding toward Mandy, who was seated on the floor and stretching her legs. "I don't need to have a dance program here."

Tony glanced over his shoulder at his partner, his only childhood friend remaining after he'd left his father's business to pursue his own dreams. Slowly, the friends he'd had as a child disappeared, leaving him certain they'd only been friendly to get a piece of his family's fortune.

He didn't miss that life.

Vandenberg was still going, rattling off a list of rules and regulations he and Mandy would be expected to follow. They were the same rules every summer, but the boss felt it necessary to keep repeating them, as if anyone could ever forget them. "And another thing, you keep your hands off of the daughters. Don't think I don't know about your exploits with all the married women who come up here."

"Is that against the rules now, too?" he asked sarcastically, raising his eyebrows and testing his boundaries. Tony had worked here for eight summers, and each year it was exactly the same. If Vandenberg even knew who his father was – not that he'd believe it, of course – well, that would change the way he was treated. He certainly wouldn't be treated like he was a pile of dog shit in someone's well-manicured yard.

"They pay me well and I won't alienate their business," replied the boss threateningly, adding, "as long as there aren't any scenes. I've been the top resort in the region for the past two decades, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you ruin my reputation."

"I have always been discreet, Mr. Vandenberg. Jealous husbands aren't really my thing." Tony reached down and took a swig from his water bottle, taking a few big gulps before setting it down and wiping his mouth, adding, "Is there anything else?"

Vandenberg narrowed his eyes. "I'll have my eye on you, DiNozzo," was the only answer, and he backed from the doorway, shutting it behind him and walking away.

Tony let out an aggravated sigh. He hated this place, if he was being honest, but he needed the job, and the resort's proximity to New York was its main draw. He turned to Mandy, reaching his hand down to help her up off the ground.

"Where were we?" He asked, attempting to regain his train of thought on where their choreography was going before the interruption.

Mandy ignored the question, admonishing him instead. "You know you really shouldn't egg him on like that." She looked at him directly, what he liked to refer to as her 'take no bullshit' look, a look she'd perfected as his surrogate sister, the only thing resembling a family in his life.

"He doesn't scare me," was the casual response. He crossed the room to hit the music, so that they could run what they had of their number before attempting to add to it. The choreography so far was solid, but the dance was still incomplete.

"Maybe so," she said over the intro, taking her first two steps toward him, a predatory move characteristic of the style of dance, "but he can still fire us." Tony reached out his hand and Mandy took it right on the beat, spinning into him and into the closed position, where they would move in perfect sync. Quick feet moved in staccato with the music, toes and heels tapping the ground in an intricate series of movements. Tony confidently led his partner around the floor, spinning her expertly into a lift before lowering her back into his arms.

"I like this," he said, panting slightly from the exertion, "but we need a better transition out of that lift." He stepped back to pause the music, biting his lip and concentrating on possible movement solutions.

"It's that change in the music," Mandy agreed, crossing one arm around her torso and the other propped against her chin in thought, tapping her toes absentmindedly.

"Exactly. We need something better than what we have. This audition is the most important one I've ever had. It has to be amazing." Mandy could sense his desperation. She knew how Tony felt about coming to work for Vandenberg every summer – he _hated_ it. And if he could land this audition, he could quit this place forever and never be treated like the scum of the earth again.

"Maybe we should try-" she was interrupted by the sound of the studio door slamming. Tony startled for a moment, thinking it was Vandenberg again, who would surely fire him for talking about auditions, but it was just Tim, another resort employee and one of Tony's closest friends, aside from Mandy.

"Hey guys, what are you working on?" Tim always seemed curious about their acts, but Tony knew that Tim didn't know anything about dance at all, and he'd rather not bore the guy to tears with technical dance terminology. Strangely enough, Tim didn't seem to grasp this concept himself, once he got himself started on the topic of comic books.

"Just a show piece, Timbo. Good to see ya," Tony replied, crossing to give the younger man a handshake before stepping back and letting Mandy give him a hug.

"Well I'm sure it'll be great," came the response. "Ah, anyway, I came up here to let you know they're having a staff party in the back lodge tonight, if you'd wanna come down and blow off some steam." Tony smiled. Tim was the only person in this godforsaken resort who would come invite the "Dance People," as they were often unkindly called, even though most of the employees had nothing in particular against them. More often than not, they were just forgotten until the resort needed some entertainment.

"We'll be there for sure," Mandy confirmed, a smile spreading across her face. Tony's brow was furrowed, but she knew that he could use a night off from the constant worrying over their dance. The audition was still a month away, and they'd have plenty of time to perfect it by then.

"Awesome," Tim replied. "Hey did you hear about the new Hulk that's coming out next month? They say he's going to-"

Tony cut him off. "Tim."

"Uh, yeah?"

"Don't really care," he joked, patting his friend on the shoulder. "We've got a lot of work to do, Tim-a-roo, we'll see you tonight?" Mandy was already crossing the room to reset the music, and Tim took that as his cue to leave, nodding as he turned from the studio and left.

"You don't have to be so rude to him," Mandy said as she started the music.

"Mandy?"

"Yes?" she challenged, starting her choreographed steps toward him.

"Shut it," he responded, reaching his hand out and pulling her into the dance.

* * *

The pool was absolutely gorgeous, even after the sun went down. Families of all ages sat around it, some dipping into the water for a night swim, and others relaxing and carrying on together. Ziva lay next to Tali on a lounge chair on the deck, poring over one of her favorite novels in the tiki-torchlight. Tali, however, was not particularly attentive to her sister's desire to read.

"Look at that one, Ziva, in the green shorts," her sister whispered loudly in Hebrew. Ziva was in no mood to scope out the scene with her boy-crazy sister.

"Papa said we are to use English," Ziva snapped as she looked up from her novel. "Besides, I am trying to read. Can you not find something else to do? Something that does not involve hassling me?" She pushed her hair behind her ear and turned back to her book.

Tali rolled her eyes and snatched the book from her, placing it face down on a nearby table. "Just look," she implored, turning Ziva in the direction of this boy that had caught her eye. He wasn't altogether unattractive, Ziva surmised, but he looked too much like Michael for her liking.

"Okay, I see him. Hand me back my book, please."

"No. He is pretty, is he not?" She asked, and Ziva smirked at her sister's word choice. Tali's English was definitely far from perfect, and Ziva derived no small pleasure from hearing her sister mess it up.

"Sure, Tali. Why do you not go tell him in person instead of bothering me?" She reached to the table and grabbed her book, grateful to find that her sister had not lost her page. She thought about sitting back down and resuming where she left off, but her sister was already making a move to reach for her book again.

"You know what," Ziva started, holding her book to her chest, "I am going to go back to the house. You are driving me crazy." She turned around and started to walk back toward their house, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she realized that Tali was not following her. _Good,_ she thought, _Tali can go find a boy to play with and I can enjoy some peace and quiet._

It didn't take long for Ziva return to the house and settle down on her bed before growing restless, wanting to get out of the room. If only Tali had not wanted to bother her so much, she would still be reading at the side of the pool. Sitting up, she placed a bookmark between the well-worn pages of the book and laid it on the night table before getting up and crossing to her suitcase. She quickly changed out of her bathing suit and into a tank top with some capris, then slipped into her sandals and headed out the door. She wasn't sure where she actually wanted to go, but she didn't want to stay in the room all night when the mountain air was so fresh.

Slowly, she started meandering down the path she had walked earlier, taking in the sounds of the evening air around her. The path was well-lit and she felt completely at ease as the crickets chirped, a sound she was unaccustomed to ever since they'd moved from their country home in Israel to the city. The sound reminded her of home, something she missed but only bitterly, since so much of her childhood had been nothing but a series of not living up to expectations.

Michael had been completely wrong for her, and while she'd given her father the benefit of the doubt and gone out with him, the thought of feeling his hands on her again made her feel physically sick to her stomach, and she wrapped her arms around her midsection protectively as she turned right down a fork in the path.

"I only want to please him," she murmured under her breath, thinking of her father, Dr. Eli David, the stone-faced surgeon who had developed a new procedure that made him practically the king of Israeli medicine, and one of the most renowned doctors internationally. Ziva was poised to attend medical school in the fall, but entering the family business was not enough for her father. She was expected to follow his orders. Only at her mother's interference was she saved from being disowned entirely, though she wondered almost daily if that would have been so terrible.

Looking up from the path for a moment, Ziva could make out a large building in the distance, bright lights filtering through large windows, and forms moving to music she could not make out. She wasn't sure whose party this was, but it was just the thing to take her mind off of her family.

She picked up her pace, walking quickly in the direction of the party when she came across a college-aged man trying – unsuccessfully – to carry three watermelons in the direction of the party. Why on earth did he not ask someone for help? "Do you need some help with that?" She asked tentatively, startling the man and causing him to nearly drop one of the melons, which she deftly leaned over to catch before it could smash on the ground.

"Sorry. You uh, you startled me," the man answered, then added, "Um, I mean … thanks." He was easily flustered, she noticed, and she did her best to put his mind at ease as he started walking toward the party again.

"You are welcome," she answered. "I am curious, though. Why was this party not in the … the … oh what is the word … _itinerary_ … for this weekend?"

"It's, uh, a staff party, one you shouldn't even know about, actually. You should … you should probably not be back here."

"Suit yourself," came the response, and Ziva stepped toward him and started to lift the watermelon up so as to place it back into his arms.

"Uh, actually …" he trailed off, taking just a second to consider whether carrying three watermelons at a time was really a smart plan. "Come on. But don't tell anybody. I'm Tim, by the way." He started walking toward the building quickly, like he was terrified of getting caught doing something he wasn't supposed to, and she followed behind him.

"Ziva," came the response, and she smiled. This guy was quite nice, she surmised, in a dorky kind of way. She hoped that all of the staff would be this nice to her when she made her entrance into this party she apparently wasn't even supposed to know about.

"I, uh … nice to meet you, Ziva," Tim responded, and she knew without him saying so that he was wondering about her accent.

"Israeli," she replied to his unasked question, but got no response. They walked the rest of the path to the building in silence. They reached the door in no time, and Tim kicked it open, walking along the outskirts and toward a back room where all of the party supplies were, and Ziva followed, depositing her watermelon next to the other two that Tim had brought. No one seemed to pay her any attention, and she turned around and watched the merrymaking unfold. People were dancing to a popular song, one of the songs that her parents absolutely could not stand. She smiled when she thought of her parents and their reactions if they found out she was here.

Two people in the center of the room caught her eye, a tall, leggy blonde with towering heels on, and a roguish but attractive man with a white button-down shirt unbuttoned halfway, baring his chest hair and oozing raw sexuality. They were dancing together, and they looked like professionals. Ziva watched as the pair ground their hips together, and the blonde would kick her legs around the man's, then twirl around him, her blue skirt billowing around as she spun. She looked on with awe, and Tim joined her, noting her admiration. "They're so talented, aren't they?" he asked, interrupting her silent appreciation.

She turned toward him after a moment, finding it hard to tear her eyes away, replying, "They are amazing. How long have they been together?"

"They're not. Uh, I mean they have been partners for years. But not dating." Ziva couldn't help but noticing how Tim blushed all the time. He was so easily embarrassed.

"They fit together, yes?" She asked, nodding toward them. She couldn't believe the two were not a couple, because they looked so into each other.

"Like brother and sister." Ziva cocked her head to the side, appreciating what she was seeing. The man dipped his partner, and her head fell back as he spun her slowly in a circle before pulling her up toward him again, his muscles flexing at the movement. They were spectacular, and no one but she and Tim seemed to be paying them any mind.

She continued to watch them – okay, _him,_ she admitted to herself – unable to close her mouth as she looked on with admiration. They spun around together a few times, and he caught her eye for just a second, long enough for Ziva to realize she'd been caught staring and look away. The song ended, and everyone in the room began to clap and cheer. Ziva turned her head and realized that Tim had disappeared, furrowing her brow as she surveyed the room.

"What are you doing here, aren't you a guest?" The voice broke her concentration and she snapped her head toward the direction of the sound only to see the man from the dancing duo standing in front of her.

"I carried a cantamelon," she responded lamely, his eyes widening as he heard her slight accent. He erupted into laughter, a full and boisterous sound, and she almost would have joined him if not for the fact that he was laughing at _her!_

"Cantamelon? Don't you mean watermelon?" He teased, and she felt her face go hot. _Yes, of course,_ she thought, groaning inwardly. _I carried a cantamelon. Oh, no. Cantaloupe, watermelon,_ she mentally catalogued _._

"It is the English. Did you come over here just to accuse me of being a guest and mock my English, or did you have some other purpose for approaching me?" She felt herself becoming agitated at this handsome stranger, and she had no idea why. He unnerved her somehow, and it wasn't often that she was thrown off by men, even the good looking ones.

"I saw you checking me out," he declared, his eyes lighting up flirtatiously as he gauged her reaction.

"I certainly was not," she denied quickly, her face scrunching up in frustration. This man, as attractive as he was, absolutely infuriated her.

"Yeah you were. You're only human. You just can't resist the DiNozzo charm," he said, a cocky smile spreading across his face. _Oh,_ she thought, _he has a great smile._

"What kind of name is DiNozzo?" She asked indignantly, not willing to let him see her flustered.

"Italian. Last name. We DiNozzo men, we exude a certain charm." He shrugged, as if he didn't understand it. Ziva ignored his comment about charm, opting to focus on his name instead. None of his charm was going to work on her.

Standing up straight and authoritatively, the way her mother had taught her to, she asked, "And do you have a first name?" There was some bite to her tone, and she smirked inwardly as he seemed momentarily taken aback by it.

"Excuse you?"

"I said, do you have a first name, or am I supposed to call you by your last name like some sort of … _servant?_ " He was definitely shocked now, and Ziva reveled in her small victory, somehow managing to unnerve this man who had seemed so sure of himself just a moment ago. She assumed he wasn't used to petite women at least ten years his junior being so firm with him.

"I have a first name. But I think you need to earn it from me, princess," he spat out condescendingly.

"I am no princess," she seethed, venom accompanying her every word.

"Really? Affluent young woman with an accent – Israeli, maybe? Comes to America with her family for the summer, and proceeds to look down on everyone and everything she sees, including me. Sounds like a princess to me." She had been trying to deliberately bait him by acting like a snob, and he was having absolutely none of it.

"You are disgusting." She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing a strand behind her ear and looked up toward him, his eyes challenging her as he stepped closer to her.

"You still can't resist me though," he supplied, daring her to back away. She stood her ground, and he stepped even closer.

"Excuse me?" She had to admit to herself, she was extremely attracted to this American stranger, but she was determined not to back down or admit any type of defeat. She'd spent her whole life being around men who had tried to control her, and she certainly wasn't going to let this one be another.

"Look, sweetcheeks, I saw you checking me out from across the room. I saw you looking at my hips as I was dancing with my partner over there. Why don't you come on over here, I'll show you how to dance with me. You know, grinding?" He paused and reached to grab her arm. She looked down at the connection, noting the way her skin tingled where he touched her. "I'm just asking for a dance, then you can go back to your ivory tower. Think you can handle that?"

She said nothing, still looking at his hand wrapped around her arm, having no idea how to respond. She should say no, and get the hell out of this party, but she couldn't bring herself to do so.

"C'mere," he said, and pulled her by the arm until she collided against him, her head fitting directly under his chin. A new song started to play, a slower song with a slightly funky beat, and he started to sway to the music, pulling her along with him.

"Move your feet apart a little," he guided, and she listened, allowing him to slide his knee between her own, feeling him pull her by the waist so he could grind against her. She started to groove along with the music, moving her hips in time with his. She hadn't known what to do with her arms at first, but she finally settled them on his arms, grasping him tightly as he dipped her slightly, her curls falling behind her head, and she laughed with delight, to her surprise. She was having _fun._

Strong arms lifted her back up toward him, and she caught his gaze as they continued to grind on each other. Ziva's breath caught in her throat as she realized how much this dance was affecting her, and she didn't object when she felt his hands roaming her hips, instead choosing to roll toward his grasp. She was incredibly turned on, and from the look on his face, this "DiNozzo" was also affected by her.

"That's it," he murmured, slipping into his role as the dance teacher, praising her for being such a quick study. She was beautiful, and young, and he'd be lying if he said that hearing her repeat his last name with her sultry accent didn't do anything for him. Messing with the guests was frowned upon, as Vandenberg had reminded him not even a few hours ago, but Tony really didn't care much for following the rules. It was all about not getting caught.

Ziva smirked as DiNozzo made to dip her again, enjoying the flirtatiousness of this type of dancing. She had never danced like this before, but even if she had, she doubted it would have the same effect without her present company. He slowly pulled her back up, leaning his face down toward her, and for a moment she thought he might kiss her. His eyes locked with hers and her lips parted, anticipating him closing the final distance. She inched closer to him, and the song ended. He leaned forward just a little bit more, until she could practically taste his breath, when he pulled away, reluctantly letting her go.

"Got a name, sweetcheeks?" He asked, breaking her from her trance.

She was frustrated, more at herself for wanting him to kiss her than she was at him for backing away, and she almost didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Something about him, though, changed her mind, and she decided to throw him a bone. "Ziva," was all she gave him.

"Well, princess Ziva," he nodded his head mockingly, as if to bow to royalty, "thanks for the dance." And he turned and walked away, leaving her standing in his wake, infuriated at his arrogance.

Worse, though, was just how hot and bothered he had left her.

* * *

 **Special shoutout to Maya, without whom this idea would have never existed in the first place.**

 **Look out for Chapter 2 on Tuesday!**


	2. I Look at You and I Fantasize

**Chapter 2: I Look at You and I Fantasize**

* * *

Couples began to merge together again, dancing, as Ziva stood by watching DiNozzo walking away from her. She was absolutely livid, wondering just what in the hell kind of game he was trying to play with her.

Acting quickly, she crossed the room, nimbly darting between dancing couples. When she reached him, his back was still toward her, so she reached up to his shoulder and yanked him around to face her. She had been forceful, and she could see that he was surprised but impressed by her strength. Inwardly, she gloated while maintaining her outward appearance of cool wrath.

"What the hell?" she asked him angrily, unable to form a more coherent thought, the words coming out more sharply than she would have liked, thanks to her accent.

"Oh, princess has gotten all riled up," he teased.

"I did not give you my _name,"_ she spat, "so that you could keep calling me _princess_."

"Well it suits."

"You are aggravating," she hissed through clenched teeth, and Tony had to admit that the way her face contorted when she got angry was really a sight to see. This woman seemed to be a firecracker, a little spitfire.

"Then why did you follow me?"

Ziva closed the distance between them so that they were toe to toe, and leaned her body against his. Tony sucked in an involuntary breath at her closeness and noted how her eyes brightened at the fact that he was noticeably uncomfortable. He flashed his most confident grin at her in an attempt to show her that he would _not_ back down, and she responded by leaning even closer to him.

Licking the corner of her lip with her tongue, Ziva tilted her head upward. Her face was _so_ close to his, she could practically run her tongue along his lips if she wanted to, finding out if he would taste as good as he looked. Desire was the only way to describe the way DiNozzo (god, why would he not give her his _name?)_ was looking down at her, and Ziva smirked.

Leaning just the tiniest bit closer to him, knowing that he was absolutely _sure_ she was going to kiss him, she puffed out one hot breath across his lips, threw on a sultry grin, then backed away slowly, one step, two steps, punctuating them with the sensuality of her hips, then turned and walked toward the door, leaving him stunned in her wake as she gave him a taste of his own medicine. _That felt good,_ she thought to herself.

She didn't turn around to see his reaction, and she wasn't surprised to find that he hadn't followed her as she left the party. He was every bit as stubborn as she was, Ziva realized, and she wondered how long it would be before one of them cracked.

The night had gotten significantly cooler in the time since she'd stepped into the party with the watermelon, and goosebumps began to dot her flesh. Then again, it had been so _hot_ inside.

 _It wasn't that hot when you first walked in there,_ her subconscious reminded her, and Ziva narrowed her eyes at the thought. She had to admit, that was correct. It only got to be hot in the staff house after she started dancing with DiNozzo.

Ziva puffed out a frustrated sigh at the thought of the irritating man.

What _was_ it about him that got under her skin?

Of course, he was sexy, that much was obvious, and worse, he _knew_ it. He had that cocky grin that lit up his entire face, making him seem like the entire world was his to take. He had an air about him that indicated that he wouldn't be pushed around, something Ziva admired, not wanting to be pushed around herself, but she still found that he could be intimidated under the right circumstances. _Yeah, a hot body pressed up against him_. She smirked.

She bent down and pulled off her sandals and hooked them under her fingers, enjoying the feeling of the dirt path between her toes. She let out another sigh, willing herself not to turn around and head back to the party to grab this DiNozzo character and take what she wanted.

Realizing that yes, she did actually want this man, Ziva let the feeling wash over herself. It had been a long time since she had actually felt desire for another person, and it was good to have a crush, perhaps someone with whom she could share a little summer romance. _Or maybe more._

Eli would certainly not approve, and she smirked at the thought. "Fuck Eli," she said aloud, and she loved the way the words sounded on her lips. She loved her father, she did. As much as she wanted to hate his guts, she couldn't find it in herself to do so. And he had made her life so difficult. Always dictating what she would do, how she should dress, where she would attend school, and who she should marry. If anything, the fact that Eli would so fervently dislike Mr. DiNozzo was all the more reason to pursue him.

Ziva bit her lip as she continued to wander up the path. DiNozzo was infuriating, yes, but she couldn't help feeling drawn to him. She was almost back to the guest house, but still she had to fight the urge to turn around and go back to him for another dance.

 _Or something else._ She snorted at her thoughts. She knew what it felt like to be wrapped in those strong arms of his, but what would it be like to run her fingers through the hair on his chest? To tease her lips along that slightly scruffy jaw of his? To roll her hips in time with his, not to music, but to a different, more primal rhythm?

"Shit," she muttered under her breath. She had known the man all of, what, twenty minutes? And already she was fantasizing about him naked? And in bed?

She brushed an errant stand of hair away from her face, lost in thought. She was acting like a twelve-year old girl, crushing on someone and becoming all flushed at the mere thought of him. She was an adult, she could go back to the party, run up to him, grab his hand, and take him somewhere to have her way with him. Who would stop her? Eli wouldn't know, and what he didn't know would hurt absolutely nothing.

Footsteps interrupted her thoughts, and before she had a chance to head back toward the party, Tali was standing before her, worry and anger etched on her features.

"Where in the earth did you go?" Her sister's accented English broke her from her thoughts.

Ziva opened her mouth to correct her sister's English but thought better of it, not wanting to start an argument. She didn't have the energy to argue with Tali again tonight. "I went for a walk, Tali. Why does it matter?"

"Without me? Why are you so eager to be alone all the time?"

"Why do you need to cling to me like a child?" came the biting response. Tali was her sister and dear friend, yes, but sometimes she needed to learn how to do her own thing. It wasn't entirely Tali's fault, of course, since Eli had severely limited the amount of people they were approved to spend time with, but by now Tali should have grown at least a little independent.

"Well excuse me for wanting to spend time with you before you _leave forever,"_ accused Tali dramatically, her tone laced with equal venom to that of her sister.

"I am not going to leave forever," Ziva spat, her anger causing her words to sound sharper, more enunciated. "And besides, it is not as if I actually _wanted_ to go to this stupid medical school in the first place. You can thank your precious _Abba_ for that."

Tali was rendered speechless, her jaw forming an "o" shape at her sister's words. She knew that Ziva was angry at their father, but she hadn't known just how deep it had gone.

Ziva pushed past her sister, muttering, "Just leave me alone, Tali. I'm going to bed." She knew she should stop and apologize to her sister for lashing out at her, but it was about time Tali realized that Eli was not the perfect father she idolized. And that it was going to be okay if they didn't spend every waking moment together.

Careful not to slam the door as she made her way back into the guest house, Ziva padded quietly down the hallway to her bedroom, glad for the second time that night that her sister hadn't followed her. She exhaled a breath she didn't know she'd been holding as she slipped into her bedroom, turning the lock behind her. She tossed her sandals to the corner of the room, then crossed to the bathroom, where she turned on the water to the bathtub and began to disrobe.

She tested the temperature of the water with her toe before sliding into the tub, satisfied that the warmth was adequate. She closed her eyes as she sank into the bubbling water, and her thoughts immediately landed on the striking Italian man she'd met earlier.

She leaned her head back against the tub, delighting in the feeling of the water rippling around her. To her annoyance, she couldn't quite relax, and she realized that this DiNozzo guy had really gotten her aggravated. "Maybe I should have gone back," she muttered to herself quietly. For what felt like the hundredth time, she let out a long, drawn out sigh, annoyed at her inability to get him off her mind.

Sinking down lower into the bath so that her head was nearly under water, she puffed out a breath of air into the tub, releasing bubbles to the surface. _If only it were that easy to release her own tension_ , she mused. She certainly _could_ relieve her own tension, but she didn't think it would be that effective. _DiNozzo_ could probably do it much more effectively.

She sighed again, shaking her head as if to dislodge the thought of him from her mind and reached for the hotel's generous selection of soaps, choosing a citrus fruit-smelling one, ignoring the fact that she thought that _he_ might like the smell on her skin.

A shiver went through her at the thought of him being close enough to smell her skin in the first place, and she laughed out loud at how she was acting, not caring that her parents might hear her. She was being utterly ridiculous, and over a guy she just met. An aggravating and cocky American, at that. Who had gotten so far under her skin that she felt tingles at the very thought of him.

For the first time since they'd arrived at the resort, she felt free and happy, and she had this silly schoolgirl crush to blame it on. Now, if only she weren't so damn … _frustrated._

Ziva finished washing, climbed out of the tub, and toweled off, changing into a t-shirt and shorts to sleep in. She flipped the air conditioning to a lower temperature, and slid under the covers of the huge bed. She tried not to think about sharing it with DiNozzo, but couldn't get the image of him out of her mind.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

"One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four!" Tony called out to the room, clapping along with the beat to accent the sound of his voice. It was a group class Vandenberg had made him offer this year for the senior citizens who came to the resort. They couldn't move worth a damn, and he was hardly teaching them anything that someone who _wasn't_ aspiring to be a professional couldn't teach them, but he knew the futility of arguing with the boss at this point.

 _The old people seem to be having a good time_ , he thought to himself as he continued counting along. They were practicing a very simple step to a pretty slow beat, and much to his amusement, some of the older women were even shaking their hips as they moved. It was quite a sight.

Most of the couples had been married for years, although Tony had been ambushed by one couple who claimed to be on their honeymoon. He hoped, for his own sanity's sake, that this was the most active thing they were planning on doing this summer.

Taking a look at his watch, Tony crossed to the stereo and cut off the music. "Great job, everyone! I'll see you all back here on Thursday morning!" he called out to his students, and they slowly made their way across the floor and toward the doorway. One of the older women, a widow who had come with a girlfriend of hers, stopped by to thank Tony for the lesson, and he turned on the charm, grinning as he responded, "Any time."

Once all of the senior citizens had left the studio, Tony sat down with a bottle of water, wiping the sweat off his brow. The air conditioning did little to calm the heat from a good workout, and he was actually pretty exhausted from the party last night.

He hadn't drank a whole lot, at least in comparison to some of the other workers in the resort, but he hadn't slept well. Every time he tried to get comfortable, he found that a certain feisty Israeli kept dancing her way into his thoughts. He couldn't erase the feeling of her body tightly wrapped up in his arms from his thoughts.

He almost followed her when she left last night, but something had stopped him. It wasn't that he was afraid of Vandenberg and his rules, it was just …

It would have been too _easy,_ he had realized last night, and he really kind of liked the chase. And he knew she was interested in him, and he couldn't wait for her to come to _him._ And she would, he was certain of that. She'd wanted him, _badly_.

Taking another swig from his water bottle, Tony began to think about the audition routine again. It occupied his thoughts almost constantly – when he wasn't thinking about a hot little Israeli who had somehow gotten under his skin, that is – and he wanted it to be perfect. Mandy typically taught her classes in the afternoons, so they would work on the number in the evenings and in the mornings before the earliest lessons. It wasn't ideal, but they didn't have much choice at this point.

Luckily, the schedule for lessons this summer wasn't quite full yet, and they'd have some extra time. Once the guests started to realize that they could take dance lessons, the schedule would begin to fill up fairly quickly, but it usually took a few weeks before that happened. The senior citizen class was the only thing he had to do all day.

He sat the bottle down on the table beside the stereo, and walked to the center of the room. Mandy was out helping in another part of the resort this morning, but he could still work on the number and try to knock out a bit more of the choreography even without her around.

He started the music and marked the number, doing the steps more in his mind than with his body. Without his partner, there was no reason to exert himself. He got to the point in the music where they'd left off, and he stopped, lost in thought. "We could …" he muttered under his breath, then shook his head. _No. That wouldn't work._

Reaching into his pocket for the small remote control he'd picked up so he wouldn't have to cross the room for the stereo every time they needed music, he started the track over again, this time moving slightly more, as though Mandy were indeed with him. He closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him, and when he pulled his partner into his arms, it wasn't Mandy he envisioned.

It was Ziva.

His eyes snapped open, and he puffed out a deep breath as he came to his senses. _Why_ was he fantasizing about Ziva now? And not when he was in a better place to appreciate her? _Like in the shower?_

A shiver ran up his spine at the thought. One stupid little dance with a young hottie and he was losing his bearings. What was wrong with him? Shaking his head as if to shake her out of his mind, Tony stopped the music again, restarting the track and marking the dance again, with the correct partner in mind. This Ziva chick was not going to get him through this audition, Mandy was. He needed to focus on the choreography, and leave Ziva where she belonged.

"In my bed," he muttered under his breath, smirking at the thought.

The door to the studio banged open then, and in walked an older woman Tony was very familiar with. She was beautiful for her age, with all of the grace and sophistication of a woman of high class. She was well older than him, but he didn't know by how much, exactly. The last time he'd asked, she'd laughed at him, the way rich people do, adding a patronizing, " _Darling,"_ to it, as though that would get him to stop wondering.

Malinda du Champ. Wife of the illustrious George du Champ, a high-powered businessman with whom, Tony was certain, his father had once had dealings. A mogul and one-of-a-kind, the type of man no one would dream of crossing. Except his wife, who stepped out on him regularly, for younger men like Tony himself.

"Darling," she said, crossing the dance floor to envelop him in a hug. "It's been ages. How are you?"

He knew she didn't really care, so he just shrugged, pulling away from her embrace. She was attractive, and she was always available and willing, as long as her husband wasn't around. Tony would be lying if he said that this wasn't one of the perks of working at the resort. The cougars were something else, and they were all married so none of them wanted a single thing from him except a good romp between the sheets.

"Come for dance lessons?" He asked, breaking the silence and putting some space between them. Something about Mrs. du Champ made him feel uncomfortable this year, as though something had changed.

"Me? Of course not," she said haughtily, as though the very idea of dancing was entirely beneath even her _consideration_. Tony swallowed. This was exactly the type of condescension his own father had dished him after _he'd_ learned that Tony wanted to dance. These women would throw themselves at him while simultaneously looking down on him. And it had never occurred to him to mind it, until now.

"I came just to make sure that you were still here, my muffin," she cooed, and Tony swallowed down another gulp. He couldn't deny that he was still attracted to her, and it wasn't like it wouldn't be easy to just fall into the same routine. _That's the problem,_ he thought _. It's easy_.

"Still here," he grinned, putting on his charmer face again. It was all he knew how to do, after all. Please the guests, keep them happy. Keep them coming back. And dance your heart out on a stage in New York in a month and then fucking kiss it all goodbye forever.

Cougars or no, he wouldn't miss this place when he made it.

The door to the studio banged open again, and both he and Mrs. du Champ snapped their heads toward the door, as Mandy strode in, placing her bag down and kicking her flip flops off. She was dressed to dance save for her shoes, and she called out a quick, "Hey," to both Tony and Mrs. du Champ before bending down to put on her heels.

"You have a class, I assume?" The older woman said, nodding toward Mandy. Tony couldn't help but notice how obvious her disappointment was.

Mandy started to answer, but Tony cut her off, saying, "Yes, shortly. Thanks for stopping by, Mrs. du Champ. It's been great to see you again." Mandy hid her surprise well, focusing on tightening the straps on her shoes, and Malinda du Champ sauntered across the dance floor and toward the door, casting a backward glance over her shoulder at Tony, as if to say she would be back.

He knew she would.

"What was that?" Mandy asked when the woman was out of earshot. She started to stretch her legs and warm up her muscles so that she and Tony could work on their number.

"Nothing," he shrugged in response. She raised her eyebrows at him, but he didn't elaborate, though he knew that Mandy was well aware that essentially kicking Malinda du Champ – or any of the women who came calling on him – out of the studio was highly unusual. Usually, _Mandy_ would have been the one to be shoved aside while Tony and whoever had come calling would have their fun in his bedroom above the studio.

"Let's just get to work. I think I may have found something we can do after that lift," he offered, and she crossed the floor toward him. Tony started the music again, and before long, he was lost in the movement, the encounter with Malinda forgotten.

The encounter with _Ziva,_ however, still lingered in a nagging corner of his mind.

* * *

The morning air was cool, and a breeze rustled through the path as Ziva ran, her feet padding rhythmically on the pavement in time with the music. Listening to her favorite Israeli pop bands always put her in a good mood, and she'd chosen this playlist specifically for running, because all of the songs were upbeat and kept a good tempo.

It was _so good_ to get back into running. She had missed it.

Her family had kept her occupied over the past couple days, not allowing her the opportunity to go off on her own and see what other activities the resort had to offer. It had been a series of introductions to boring person after boring person after boring person, and often, their boring sons, as well. Ziva guessed that Eli had figured if he couldn't marry her off to Michael, maybe one of the resort guests, all of whom were certainly from the correct side of the tracks, would be suitable for her.

Ziva clenched her fists at the thought of it, picking up her pace without thinking. When would Eli get it through his thick head that she was not interested?

The more he tried to push her toward potential suitors – something that made her feel very much the princess that DiNozzo had dubbed her – the more Ziva found herself imagining the hot dance instructor.

The family outings, it seemed, had _not_ kept her from thinking about him, and it had been three days already.

 _Why_ had she not been able to get him off her mind?

Ziva followed the trail through the wooded part of the resort, a path she hadn't yet taken but had been looking forward to, now that she had the opportunity to run it. The trees kept the area slightly darker than the open path she'd been on before, and it was hard for her to see very well. Because she wasn't sure what kind of roots or rocks might be on the trail, she kept her head angled downward, looking only a few steps ahead to ensure she would step correctly.

It would not be a good thing to trip over a tree branch and break her neck out here in the middle of nowhere.

The run was calming her, and Ziva let her mind wander as a new song came blasting through her earbuds. It was one of her favorites, a fast-paced song about the rush of finding a new lover, and she let her mind drift to DiNozzo. _Again,_ she reminded herself.

A small smile tilted the corners of her mouth.

As much as she tried, she couldn't stop thinking about the man, or the way his arms felt wrapped around her while they'd danced. It was as if he'd burned her, and everywhere he'd touched her was irrevocably changed. The attraction was so strong, so primal, that she could hardly think of anything else but how it would feel to _have_ him. To moan as he took her into his arms and held her tightly, to cry out his name as pleasure overtook her.

If only she knew what his first name _was._

She'd been dying to run back to the staff area, to try to find where he stayed. She needed to know his name, at the very least. But she was sure he wasn't interested, because why else wouldn't he have come after her the other night? And it had been three days.

How would she look if she came running to him _now,_ after three days, when he was clearly not even interested enough to give her his name? She'd thought about him every night since the party as she lay in bed, imagining him between her legs, but she didn't even know who he was. Why was she so infatuated with this man, this dance instructor who'd given her one dance and an infuriating nickname before leaving her wanting?

She wiped sweat from her brow as she trudged up a slight incline, quickening her pace a little, trying to force herself to concentrate only on the run. _Focus on the steps. Focus on your arms, and your form. Don't focus on the way it felt when you could feel his breath across your cheek._

Fuck!

She sped up even faster, hoping that somehow, the physical exertion could relieve her pent up sexual frustration. She turned the music up and focused on her breathing, willing herself to stop thinking about DiNozzo. She worked her pace into a sprint, telling herself she'd just run to a tree she could make out in the distance, then slow to her regular pace. Buckling down, she concentrated on the movement, putting one foot in front of the other, determined to give it all she got. She rounded a curve in the trail, focusing only on the steps in front of her, when something came up and knocked clean into her, knocking her flat on her ass, her earbuds flying out of her ears.

The other thing was a person. DiNozzo's dance partner, in fact.

And she was hurt.

"OUUUWWWW!" She screeched, obviously in an immense amount of pain.

"Oh my god, oh … I am so sorry!" Ziva began, seeing that the woman – whose name, she realized, she also did not know – was unable to move. Her leg seemed to be bent at an unnatural angle, and Ziva knew she wouldn't be able to get back up and walk back to her room. Or anywhere, for that matter.

"Why don't you watch where you're going?" The dancer screamed, tears streaming down her face. Ziva felt terrible, and she didn't know what to really say other than what she had already said – she was sorry.

"I …" she trailed off. "You cannot walk," she added unnecessarily, feeling uncomfortable at the thick silence that had settled over the area. Even the birds seemed to have quieted, leaving Ziva feeling as though only she and this dancer woman were left in all of civilization.

"Well thank you, Captain Obvious," the woman said, and Ziva furrowed her brow in confusion, not understanding the expression. "You have to help me!"

"Yes, of course," came the response, and Ziva snapped back to attention. She noticed that the end of the trail was just around the bend, and if she ran quickly she could have help in just a few minutes. She started toward the end of the trail, when she was halted by the panicked sound of the dancer's voice.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to get help. I will call for the emergency services. The para- paraplegics, no the para-"

"Para _medics?_ " The blonde supplied slowly, enunciating every word as though Ziva were a child.

"Yes. The _paramedics,_ " Ziva replied, trying her hardest not to sound irritated. After all, she wasn't the one lying on the ground with a broken leg from someone else's carelessness. But did the woman have to be so rude?

She turned again to head back toward the resort, and again, was halted by the sound of the woman's voice. "You can't just leave me here!"

"I am going to get help, I will be back. I cannot carry you, and you should not move, anyway. I am in excellent shape. I will return in a few minutes. I swear. And again, I am sorry."

Before Mandy could protest again, Ziva took off running toward the employee quarters. Her father was a doctor, yes, but _like hell_ she was going to ask him for help, and DiNozzo would surely be interested in knowing that his dance partner was injured. The dance studio came into view, and she sprinted the final distance to the door, panting as she knocked loudly, hoping he would be in the studio, since she did not know where his room was located.

She tried not to look surprised when a woman, probably twice her age, opened the door with a raised eyebrow. Before Ziva could say anything, DiNozzo appeared behind the woman, shirtless and looking as though he'd just awoken from a coma. "Yes?" He muttered, clearly annoyed. _It is nice to see you, too_ , she thought.

"It is your partner," Ziva breathed out, still panting heavily from having run much faster than she was used to, "she is injured."

His eyes snapped open at the words, like he hadn't been really awake before. "What?"

She followed behind him as he walked back toward the stairs, grabbing a shirt that had been discarded and throwing it on. "We were running on the trail nearby, and we collided. I did not … it was an accident, but I feel terrible, and I told her I would run for help." He slid on a pair of sneakers that were loose enough that he didn't need to tie them, and headed toward the door.

Almost forgetting about the older woman behind him, he shouted, "Later," at her before following Ziva, not noticing how Malinda's face scrunched into an angry scowl. Tony didn't even have it in him to feel sorry for the woman, now that he had to worry about Mandy, and the upcoming audition.

 _Oh god,_ he realized. _The audition._ He kept up pace with Ziva as they rounded a corner toward the trail, but felt his heart sink at the realization that if Mandy was truly injured as Ziva had said, then his audition, and all of the hopes and dreams that went along with it, were about to go poof.

* * *

 **Thank you everyone for your continued interest in this story. All of the lovely reviews I've received have made me so happy! Chapter 3 will be up on Friday evening.**


	3. Did I Take You by Surprise

**Chapter 3: Did I Take You by Surprise**

* * *

"Look what this stupid girl did!" came the shrill sound of Mandy's voice, obviously very angry and very pained as Ziva returned with both Tim and DiNozzo in tow. After he'd gotten dressed and left the dance studio, he'd run to Tim's room where he'd called for the paramedics, and then asked Tim to come along, stating that he could help calm Mandy down. _Mandy,_ Ziva thought. So at least one mystery name was solved.

"It was an accident!" Ziva couldn't help how her accent became more noticeable when she was stressed, and it seemed that Mandy wasn't too keen on foreigners. Or maybe it was just guests in general. "Besides, you were not looking where you were going, either."

"Do you know what you've just _done?_ "

"Well it seems pretty obvious that you have broken your leg, and for that, I am sorry. Truly," Ziva replied earnestly, feeling a wave of guilt wash over her. She'd already apologized, but for some reason, it didn't seem to be enough, no matter how many times she said it. She wasn't usually so clumsy, and she'd never physically caused an injury to anyone before, even though she'd been trained – at her father's insistence – in several types of martial arts.

"No, you don't understand at all," Mandy continued, the sharpness of her voice stabbing at Ziva's conscience, making her feel even worse about the situation. "Tony has an audition next month in New York, and I'm supposed to be his partner." Ziva's eyes widened at the mention of DiNozzo's first name, but said nothing in response, and Tony rolled his eyes exasperatedly at his partner. He was annoyed that she not only spilled about the audition, which could lead to him being fired from the resort, but that she'd also given the Israeli Princess his name, although he had to admit, he didn't know why _that_ part annoyed him so much. Maybe because it was one less thing he could hold over her head.

"Mandy!" His admonishment was sharp, and Ziva noted how Tim seemed surprised at the revelation, as well. So this was some big secret she was not supposed to know.

"If you are worried that I will … what is the phrase … spill the beans, you do not have to worry. I do not want to get involved," Ziva stated matter-of-factly, and turned to leave.

"You can't just _leave,"_ spat Mandy, the pure hatred in her voice making Ziva want to do exactly that. "You caused this mess, so what are you going to do about it?" Ziva again noticed how Tony seemed annoyed with what his partner was saying, as if he didn't want her speaking on his behalf. What was it with him, anyway? Why was this such a big deal?

"Well there has to be some other way, can he not flow solo?"

"It's _fly_ solo and no, I cannot, miss princess," Tony finally spoke up, obviously frustrated at the situation. Although Ziva could tell he was annoyed, he was several times more polite about it than Mandy was. Ziva really tried to imagine what kind of pain she must be feeling and how that must be affecting her mood, but she couldn't seem to empathize fully with the woman. _I would_ never _be this rude to someone I didn't even know_.

Ziva glanced over to Tony, noting that his face was lined with worry, and she felt an entirely new wave of guilt hit her. She suddenly felt less sorry about injuring Mandy than she did about hurting Tony's chances with this audition thing. She tried to catch his eye, to convey some sort of apology to him, but he wouldn't look at her. She stared at the ground, feeling insignificant.

Tony noticed how Ziva's attitude had shifted when she realized the full implications of Mandy's injury, but he couldn't worry about her right now. He was seriously wondering what he was going to do about what he'd considered the biggest chance of his career suddenly slipping away. These auditions didn't come along very often, and he'd missed an earlier shot due to circumstances beyond his control already. He couldn't do this again, spend another summer in this hellhole of a resort waiting for a chance to arrive. He started to let his thoughts wander even further when Mandy's voice broke him from his reverie.

"Yeah, so why don't you just call your fairy godmother and have her fix everything, _princess,"_ Mandy spat at Ziva, her anger seemingly intensifying with every moment. _Was she always like this_ , Ziva wondered, _or was it just the pain talking?_ "Or do you only throw money at your problems to make them go away?"

Pissed off at being treated like a child, Ziva again turned to walk away from the scene, deciding that the argument with this partner of _Tony's_ wasn't worth it. She knew well enough to be the bigger woman and not cause a scene, which is more than she could say for this woman who was easily half a dozen years her senior. Resisting the urge to make an obscene gesture – or worse, shout an expletive, Ziva started to head back toward her guest house, a scowl making its way to her face, when Tim shouted, " _Wait!"_

Returning to a neutral expression, Ziva turned around and faced the three friends, surveying the scene. Mandy was still lying on the ground, her face contorted with both anger and pain, and Tony was trying to get her to lie down. "Yes?" she asked, wondering what else they could possibly need her for.

"Maybe she can do it. The, uh … the audition," Tim answered sheepishly. Ziva noticed how Tim seemed uncomfortable talking about the audition, and realized that it was probably not ever meant to be known by anyone outside of Tony and Mandy, even though Tim was supposedly their friend.

"What?" three incredulous voices asked simultaneously.

"You taught her to move, I, uh … I watched you guys. At the party. And I've seen you teach." Pausing to gather his thoughts, Tim continued, "I'm sure you can teach her to dance with you, right?" He was blushing profusely, and Ziva couldn't help but admire how Tim constantly pushed himself past his comfort zone, knowing that he was timid but willing to try to be assertive when he was around his friends.

"Tim, I don't think you understand how important this audition is," Tony responded, annoyed.

"Maybe he _would,_ if you had mentioned it to him," Ziva came to his defense, much to Tim's relief. She could see that Tony often gave him a hard time, and it didn't seem fair, from her vantage point, especially considering the fact that he'd been left out of the loop.

"Okay, Miss Fancypants, I'll explain it." He stood up and walked toward her, and she bristled at his condescending tone, tightening up her fists at her sides and taking in a deep breath to keep from knocking him on his ass. Between Mandy's complete rudeness – despite Ziva's repeated apologies – and Tony's constant insinuation that she was stupid, her irritation had started to reach its peak. "This audition with one of the most prominent dance companies in New York could get me everything I've ever wanted, which is to be paid to perform professionally, and even to compete at an international level. This is my entire future. I can't just throw _anyone_ around the floor and hope to impress the panel."

"So you are saying that you do not think I can do it, when you have not even given me a chance to show you whether or not I can dance." _I do not know why I am getting offended,_ she thought. It wasn't like she was a professional-caliber dancer.

" _Can_ you?" She had taken dance for a while when she was younger, but his skepticism and downright patronizing attitude kept her from mentioning it. If he'd give her the chance, he'd figure it out soon enough.

"Try me," she challenged, stepping closer to him, facing him toe-to-toe and looking him square in the face. As with their dance a few nights ago, there was hardly any distance between their faces, and Ziva felt herself flush involuntarily at his closeness. If he noticed, he gave no indication.

"Can you _seriously_ stop fucking arguing about whether or not prissy over there can dance and get me the hell off this road?" Mandy interrupted, earning a glare not only from Ziva, but from Tony, as well. Tony stepped back a few paces and turned his head toward his partner.

"Mandy, the paramedics are on their way," Tony started, rolling his eyes. "Or we could leave you here and discuss this somewhere else," he offered with a smirk. She didn't respond, mollified, and silence settled over the group for several minutes. Ziva wanted to leave, but felt like she was now part of some decision that was in progress. Tony was lost in thought, his brow furrowing as he looked out at the horizon, and Tim paced nervously, looking up every few seconds in the hopes that the ambulance would be on its way.

"So, are you going to let her try?" Tim broke the silence, and Tony's head snapped toward Ziva, who was looking at him expectantly. There was a part of her that really wanted him to say yes, he'd give her a shot, and another part of her that really wanted him to say no so she could go back to her room, shower, and forget this morning ever happened.

His eyes scanned her from head to toe, sizing her up, and a slight shiver went through her body at the thought of him checking her out. Not to be outdone, however, she returned the gaze, pausing briefly at his midsection with a smirk, just long enough to unnerve him. It was clear that he wasn't used to being ogled like a piece of meat.

When he didn't respond, she added, "You're intimidated."

He scoffed, responding, "Please. I think it's the other way around, Princess _Ziva."_ The way he emphasized her name irritated her, but it was nice to finally hear him say it, she realized. Even with _princess_ attached to it.

"So then there is no reason not to give it a chance," she answered. She wasn't entirely sure she _could_ learn to dance well enough to impress a professional panel of judges in a short period of time, but she wasn't going to tell him that. The fact that he was willing to dismiss her entirely was what made her want to do it. There was nothing she enjoyed more than proving people wrong about her capabilities. It had worked wonders for her when she'd served in the IDF. Petite and young, she'd hardly been taken seriously, until she managed to knock three male superiors on their asses during a sparring session.

"Oh really, you're going to play that card with me?" She furrowed her brow in confusion, and he realized that she didn't understand the expression. "Never mind. No. I won't allow it."

"Well, what else are you going to do? You have already said you that cannot do it by yourself."

"I can get a dancer from the city to help me out," he answered with an uncertain smile, and Ziva couldn't help but notice how his voice didn't carry its usual confidence.

"You can't afford that," Mandy interjected snidely, grimacing through her pain as she could hear the faint sound of a siren in the distance. _Finally._ "You taught me to dance, you _might_ be able to teach her." Ziva was shocked to hear Mandy jumping to her defense, however uncertain she sounded, but she didn't show it. She merely raised her eyebrows at Tony questioningly.

He sighed, exasperated. "Fine. I'll give you a try. As soon as the paramedics get her loaded up, you're coming with me to the studio. We've got a lot of work to do. And if it doesn't work, you," he gave a cursory nod at Ziva, "are going to help me figure out another solution. This audition is important. I need you to be committed to helping me. Understand?"

Ziva nodded. She hadn't exactly set out to become DiNozzo's – no, _Tony's –_ new partner when she went out for a jog this morning, and the man absolutely drove her crazy, but she couldn't help the way her body flushed with anticipation at the thought of feeling those strong arms around her again, even if it was meant to be more like a business transaction than a romantic entanglement.

She knew she was in too deep, and it was unlikely that he wanted anything more than to pass this audition that he had going on, but she didn't care. He looked aggravated, though, and not for the first time, she felt terrible about having been clumsy enough to knock Mandy out of commission. Even though it had been unintentional, Mandy had been so rude to her after they'd collided that Ziva almost felt kind of glad that she was injured. It was as though a strange sort of justice had been served.

The ambulance finally pulled up, and without speaking Tony nodded to Ziva as if to say, "Shall we?" She puffed out a breath, blowing a hair off her face, and nodded back, walking silently beside him on the way to the dance studio.

* * *

For the second time that morning, Ziva was at the dance studio. Although the dancers weren't treated very well, she had to admit that Vandenberg had given them more than adequate space for their purpose, and although the boss had undoubtedly thought he was punishing them by keeping the studio secluded on the far end of the resort, he had actually been doing them a favor. They were able to play whatever music they needed and not worry about disturbing anyone. It was just Tony and Ziva in the large room, as Tim had been kind enough to go with Mandy to the hospital.

"So I guess we should get started here, if I'm going to teach you to dance well enough to be my audition partner in a little more than a few weeks." He looked doubtful, and Ziva could see the worry and tension in the way he furrowed his brow as he tied his dance shoes. He'd run upstairs to change into clothing that was more suitable for dancing, and had re-emerged wearing a tight t-shirt and a pair of pants that left little to the imagination. She had already discarded her sweaty running shirt, and was standing in the studio in just her sports bra and shorts.

"I took dance classes when I was younger, you know," she offered, feeling the awkwardness wash over her. "Ballet," she added as an afterthought, shrugging her shoulders before moving her legs into fifth position, her arms gracefully curved in front of her in first position. The position felt unnatural after all this time, but she ignored the feeling.

Tony nodded curtly, grinding his teeth. "How long?"

"About four years, before my father decided it was a waste of time," she responded, trying not to let her bitterness surface. If Tony noticed, he didn't show it. She didn't know him that well, but he didn't seem like the type to let something like that go, in fact, he seemed to relish finding those little things that would get under her skin. This dance thing must be _really_ important to him, she realized.

"How are you in heels?"

"Excuse me?" Tony was amused by the look of utter puzzlement on her face. He would have to try to confuse her more often.

"This is a ballroom dance. You'll need to be in heels," he explained. "I can send Tim or someone to pick you up a pair from a dance store in a few days." _When you're ready,_ he didn't add, but Ziva could tell from his expression exactly what he meant.

"I can do anything you want me to do in heels," she challenged, her voice lowering to a sultry tone. If he intended to underestimate her, she would do everything in her power to keep him off balance for it. Tony's face flushed, and he paused for just a moment before shaking himself out of whatever thoughts he was having. Ziva gloated inwardly at the way his eyes had glazed over, knowing that his thoughts were not at all innocent. _We can both play,_ she thought.

"Okay, that's good to know then. But for now, take your sneakers off and just dance barefoot, and let's get into it." She reached down to take her running shoes off, then her socks, stuffing them into the toes, and walked across the room to set them against the wall and out of the way. She crossed back toward him, stopping with several feet still between them.

He crossed toward her, reaching for her arms as he drew near. "This is the closed position, and your arms should be here," he started, placing her arms into position one at a time, "and you need to maintain a tight frame while we are dancing. Got it?"

Ziva nodded, and he continued with the instruction, walking her through some of the basics of ballroom dancing. It was completely different from ballet, and she realized she would have to learn an entirely different set of rules and techniques. Tony gave her corrections as he glided her across the floor, leading her in just a basic step to get her used to being led around the floor. She stepped on his toe once, and apologized, then she miscounted, and apologized again. "Look at me," he corrected, noting her tendency to look down at her feet. "Don't mouth the counts," he added, and she parted her lips slightly and concentrated on counting only in her head.

The heat between them was becoming overwhelming, but she felt like she was starting to get a feel for this type of dancing. She stepped on his toe again then, and she felt herself blushing slightly. _Perhaps I do not quite have the feel of it,_ she realized, and Tony let her go, crossing the room to change the music. He put on a slower song that had a similar rhythm, and reached his arm out to her, inviting her to dance.

Determined not to screw up again, Ziva slid into his arms and gazed into his eyes, concentrating on the movement. The slower beat seemed to help, and after several songs, Ziva felt that the movement was becoming more natural and that she didn't have to concentrate nearly as much, which led to her focus wandering to other things, like the way the hand on her waist tightened when he pulled her into a partnered spin for the first time, or the way his gaze never left hers. He seemed to lead not just with his body but his eyes, and she allowed herself to get lost in him as he pulled her around the floor, the slower rhythm making every movement seem more significant somehow.

Another song started, and although the music was still slower than they'd started with, Tony was pleased with her progress. Tony started to introduce more complicated steps into their dance, helping her with some footwork that involved kicking one of her legs around his, learning to do a turn sequence that she nearly fell out of the first time, and even stepping out of the frame and back in again on the music. He hadn't yet started to teach her any specific ballroom dances, let alone the choreography, but she was doing quite well just with improv.

"You're a quick study," he said after a while, pleased with how easy it was to lead her around the floor. Ziva was a feisty and rather stubborn young woman, but she was a pleasure to dance with, which he found surprising and rather intriguing. She didn't seem the type who would be easy to lead, in fact, he had been certain he would have to wrest control from her at some point. But he hadn't.

Ziva smiled at his praise, but it faded quickly when she responded, "I have not had the luxury of being slow at anything."

"What do you mean?" Tony cocked his head to the side, then added, "Try to do the spin out and back in again, faster this time." She obliged, twirling away from him and back into his arms. He observed her form at every opportunity, making mental notes of what types of steps she performed well and which she would need to work on. _Her arms_ , he noticed. They would need to focus on the way she carried her arms.

"My father expects a lot from me. I am to follow in his footsteps. I start medical school in the fall."

"Med school," He repeated. Ziva was full of surprises. "Smart princess," he added, earning him a glare that, if he were being honest, could have turned many a man into a pile of goo. He briefly wondered what would happen if Ziva were to look at Tim with that face, and he smirked not only at the thought, but as a response to her glare. He would not allow her to think she intimidated him, even though she did. A lot, actually. "So you could have gotten your father to help instead of calling for an ambulance?"

"I could have, yes, but we are on vacation, and he does not have any supplies with him. Besides, he would …" she trailed off. How would she explain her father, and the way he would have acted toward the Americans, all of whom were resort workers? Her shoulders slumped slightly, and Tony let the question drop. Mandy was in perfectly capable hands by now, anyway.

"I understand, he's stuck up. Comes with the territory, around here," Tony said easily, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "Come on let's take a break," he offered, dropping her arms and crossing to turn the music off. Tony grabbed two bottles of water from a nearby mini-fridge and sat down, handing one of the bottles to Ziva. Stuck up was one way to describe her father, Ziva mused, though it was more than simple snobbery with him.

"So, why med school?" He hadn't meant to pry, really, but he just didn't see Ziva the Doctor when he looked at the beautiful young woman who he'd spun around the floor in his arms for the last forty-five minutes.

Ziva puffed out a sigh, sadness clouding her features as she answered. "It is not my choice, really. My father is a doctor, and his father before him. It is a family tradition, and I am expected to stay in the family business. He would have preferred to have a son follow in his footsteps, but Tali – my sister – was the last child my mother could have. Women can be doctors, of course, but my father is old-fashioned. He wishes I were a son, the son who would carry his family name into the family business."

"In Israel?" Tony watched her intently as she spoke, surprised at how honest she was being with him. Ziva, too, was surprised. It was unusual that she would share this much of herself to anyone.

"Yes," came the clipped response. "I am to attend school in New York, and then return as soon as I graduate to join his practice."

Tony mulled that around in his head for a few moments, trying unsuccessfully (again) to imagine Ziva as a doctor. It just didn't suit what he knew about her. "Is that what you want to do though?"

"I have not thought about it. I do not have the choice, so there has been no need to dwell upon what might be," she said quietly. She had given up on dreams of her own many years ago. Perhaps when she'd been made to quit ballet at age nine, but she didn't recall that being the moment she'd stopped believing in her own happiness. She was certain she didn't actually want to be a ballerina, but she had never had the opportunity to explore what she really wanted.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each taking sips of their water at random intervals, Ziva toying with the lid of her water bottle, and Tony absently tapping his toe against the leg of the chair.

"Are you happy?" He broke the silence, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. He had to know more about her, what made her tick. She was an enigma, a mystery he had to unravel.

"What?" She turned to look at him, noting the earnest way he was looking at her, and it unnerved her. How could this man, a man she barely knew, be this concerned for her?

"Are you happy with what you're planning to do with your life?" He offered more to the question, to clarify what he was asking.

She shrugged. "It is what it is. This is the path that I must follow." She and Tony both knew that she was avoiding answering the question, but she refused to let him disarm her this way. She kept her feelings hidden for a reason, and she didn't need to start worrying now about how her life could be different.

"Seems pretty awful," Tony responded, wanting to reach over and shake some sense into her.

"I want to please my father," she sighed, and suddenly he began to understand. He'd been through a similar situation, trying to earn his own father's approval but failing.

"That suggests you don't now," he answered, earning him another deadly glare. Before she could respond, he added, "Do you have to earn his love by going into the family business?" The shock that registered on her face lasted just a moment, giving way to indignance, and she stood up quickly, as if to distance herself from him.

"You are insufferable," she spat, and started walking toward the door.

"You won't leave. You feel guilty for hurting Mandy. And you promised," he called after her, and she stopped, realizing he was right. She might have walked out, but she'd have come back almost immediately, feeling terrible about having caused this whole mess to begin with.

"Okay, I will not leave." She turned around, took another swig from her bottle, capped it, and tossed it over to the edge of the room. "What about your family?"

Tony shook his head, chuckling as he stood up. "Let's not talk about them," he answered, beginning to understand why Ziva had been so reluctant to answer questions about her father. He felt similarly, if he was being honest.

"Then let us not talk about mine," she stated with a finality that suggested the conversation was over.

"Truce?" He asked, raising his arms as a suggestion for her to join him in the dance again.

She crossed the room, hitting the music on her way toward him, stepping into his arms, and nodded. "Truce."

They spent the next several hours dancing together, neither of them speaking much, except about the steps. Still, Tony found himself growing more and more curious about the woman who was slated to become a doctor against her will, and Ziva found herself wanting to share more of herself to him, despite having been pressured to earlier. Neither dared cross the imaginary line they'd drawn, though, but as Ziva looked up at Tony, after having been corrected for looking down for the hundredth time, she found nothing but honesty in his eyes.

 _I could so easily get lost in those eyes_ , she realized as she felt herself falling under his spell yet again, and she shuddered slightly at the thought. Tony's arms tightened around her, and she smiled slightly at the shift between them. The song ended, and they stood together for longer than was probably necessary, but neither of them made a move to pull away.

"I should probably get back to the guest house," she said quietly, finally breaking the silence between them.

He looked at the digital clock on the stereo, realizing that they had been dancing for hours. How on earth had the time gone so quickly? "Good job today," he said, stepping back from her, holding her by the hand just a second longer than necessary. He bowed his head awkwardly, and Ziva felt another shiver go through her at his reluctance to let her go.

"Tomorrow?" She murmured, already looking forward to seeing him again.

"Yeah, around eleven. Maybe we'll start choreography," he replied, and watched her grab her shoes and the t-shirt she'd been wearing earlier. She stopped at the door and paused to smile at him, not leaving until he met her gaze and returned her smile. He stood still for a moment, watching her head up the path back toward her family's guest house until he lost sight of her. Wiping sweat from his brow, he let the smile on his face widen as he thought about teaching Ziva to dance. She was doing remarkably well for a beginner, and he almost dared to hope that she would be skilled enough to help him succeed in New York. He heaved a sigh of relief. It would be a lot of work, but they might just be able to pull this off.

He walked over to the corner where Ziva had tossed her water bottle, noting that it was empty before picking it up and tossing it in the trash bin. He walked back to the stereo system to change the music again, putting the audition song on. He would have to finish the choreography soon if they were going to have time to perfect it. He worked his way through the parts that he and Mandy had done already, then stopped, trying to imagine where else the dance should go.

There was a great crescendo toward the end where he knew they'd have to navigate a tricky lift, and already he was starting to worry about it. Ziva was small and probably light, but there was more to doing lifts than weight. They'd have to start on that as soon as possible.

 _Still, it might work,_ he thought to himself as he walked back to the stereo to turn the music off. He'd work with Ziva again tomorrow morning. The thought of getting to pull her close for another several hours tomorrow and for the next several weeks sent a shiver through his spine, and he smirked as he headed up the stairs to his room, where he'd have a cold shower and try not to think about his sultry new dance partner.

Lord almighty, the woman might just kill him.

* * *

 **As I have said before, thank you all for the support you've given to this story so far. I have loved every last one of your reviews, favs, and follows. I have been so excited to share this story finally. Look out for Chapter 4 on Monday.**


	4. You're Mine Tonight

**Ahoy, mateys, there be smut in these waters. (That's as close to a warning as you're getting.) Also, this chapter is longer than the first three, and for that, well, I'm not even a little sorry.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: You're Mine Tonight**

* * *

"Okay, you need to learn to count on this beat," Tony snapped impatiently, frustrated that again, his new partner was not getting a proper feel for the steps. She'd done so well at their first session, but then again, they hadn't been doing anything but some improv, just a test to see if she could actually dance. When it came to learning the actual form and movement, however, she was struggling.

"I know how to count," she muttered, annoyed. They'd been doing this same step for two days now, with almost nothing else to show for the time they'd put in. Yesterday they'd spent hours just hammering out the rhythm of this particular style, and today was Ziva's first day in heels, something she'd had to adjust to, despite her insistence to the contrary. "Perhaps if you showed me the dance, I would remember that, since I will associate the steps with the music."

"You need to understand the basics first," he countered, stepping back from her but motioning for her to keep moving. " _One_ two three four, _one_ two three four…" he continued, emphasizing the first count with a clap, the one that she kept misstepping on.

"Maintain your frame," he corrected, noting her arms drooping as she focused on the steps. She held her frame well when he held her, he'd noticed, but she would lose it somewhat when he pulled away from her. There would be moments in the dance when they would have to pull apart, and she needed to maintain that proper carriage when they did so.

Ziva made the correction, then stumbled on the first count again. She cursed under her breath in Hebrew, a word Tony did not understand but didn't need to.

"Stop," he said, turning off the music. She ran her hands over her head, pushing stray hairs that had fallen out of her ponytail off her face. She let out a sigh, tired and frustrated, but unwilling to give up.

"You need to relax," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking down at her earnestly.

"I am trying," she responded, nodding her head back in frustration. Tony stepped away, turning toward the stereo and changing the music with the remote. He selected a different song, a slightly slower one. He turned back toward Ziva, taking her swiftly into his arms, pulling her by the waist until her lower half was flush against him, the lock-tightness of his arms the only thing keeping them from colliding entirely.

"Listen to this beat," he said quietly, adding, "and feel the music." He looked into her eyes and nodded along with the music, a heavier nod for the first, accented count, and slighter nods for the others. "Eyes on me," he added, when she started to close her eyes to feel the music.

She opened them, gazing directly into his eyes, noting how they seemingly danced along with the music. Ziva found herself getting lost, her breath catching in her throat, as he held her close and finally began to lead her, maintaining the eye contact and helping her to feel the steps to this slower, more intimate music.

Her lips parted almost unknowingly, and she felt as though she needed help to catch her breath. She moved her feet to the music, stepping on the correct count, following his lead. Perhaps he had only needed to slow it down for her, from the beginning, like he had the other day.

" _Much_ better," he murmured, pleased that the slower pace was working. "You are feeling it now. I can tell," he added, and Ziva wasn't sure if he meant the music or something else, something between them. Perhaps he meant both.

Unable to respond, she just danced, letting him lead her around the room. She was no longer stepping on his feet, and she felt secure in the way he led her across the floor. At some point, she realized she'd lost track of counting and just moved, the steps feeling more natural.

"You see that?" he said softly, smiling in approval, then slid his hands lower, toward her hips. "Now move your hips. It should come naturally."

Ziva sucked in a sharp breath, then flushed slightly, hoping he hadn't noticed. Their proximity the past few days had only intensified her attraction toward him, and now he was touching her intimately … it was only dancing, she realized, but no man had ever awakened this kind of longing in her. "Like this?" She breathed, tentatively swaying her hips along with the steps.

"That's good." He slid his hands back away from her hips, re-joining her in a tight dance frame. "Now, more deliberately, really _feel_ it."

Feeling more confident, Ziva began to roll her hips more assertively to the music. The song was sexy, the dance was sensual, and the room was hot, and Tony was holding her close and telling her to roll her hips to the music as he led her around the room. It was like some kind of dream, the way she felt in his arms.

Confident, sexual, beautiful.

The song ended, and Tony slowly released her from his embrace, taking a step back and giving her a slight nod, as if to thank her for the pleasure. "You've got it, finally," he said, pleased. "Tomorrow morning, we'll begin work on the audition piece."

Ziva nodded, glad that they were finally making progress. She was in excellent shape, but Tony had been working the hell out of her, and she was exhausted. She couldn't wait to get into a hot bath to soak her legs, which were unused to being in heels as long as they had been. She'd promised she could do it, though, and she was determined not to let him down.

"I will see you tomorrow, then," she said softly, almost wanting to stay despite her fatigue. She caught his eye as he took a swig from his water bottle, and they stood there for a moment, locked in place, as if some unseen force kept them from moving from each other's gaze.

"I will be right here," came his response, and taking two steps back, she finally turned and left, heading back to her family.

* * *

"I guess you lucked out with this one," Mandy said, the surprise evident in her voice as she sat in the corner of the room, her leg propped up on another chair. She'd come to see how Tony and his new partner were getting along, and she had to admit, the young princess – a nickname she'd earned, whether she liked it or not – was a fairly competent dancer. If she hadn't known they'd been working on the dance for the past six days straight, she might have considered Ziva to be a natural.

Tony nodded, pleased to hear that most of the bite had left Mandy's voice from the last time she and Ziva had interacted. After learning that her leg would most likely heal with no long-term complications and she'd be able to return to dancing, Mandy had lost a lot of her anger.

Ziva had noticed Mandy's attitude change, as well, but she was still wary of the woman, who had been so incredibly rude to her on their first meeting. Still, she thanked the heavens for the fact that this audition was only for Tony, and not for both of them. She still would have stepped in to help Tony, but she would have felt terrible if she'd ruined someone's shot at a better future.

She got the impression that neither Tony nor Mandy enjoyed working at Vandenberg's that much.

"Well, I gotta get ready for my appointment," Mandy grumbled, reaching for the crutches she'd propped against a nearby chair and hobbling to her foot. Agile as she was, she was having a hell of a time navigating life on a pair of crutches. She sighed, casting an irritated glance at Ziva, but the girl wasn't paying her any attention.

"Thanks for stopping by, Mandy." Tony crossed the room to the door, holding it open for his former partner as she slowly made her way out of the studio. Ziva let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, relieved that the other woman was gone. It was obvious that Mandy still had it out for her, but she wouldn't give the woman the satisfaction of seeing that she'd gotten under her skin.

"Again from the top?" Tony's voice broke her from her reverie. Ziva said nothing, just moved to her place on the floor, striking her pose for the beginning part of the dance.

The music filled the room, and when the beat came, she picked up her cue and started the steps toward him. He'd told her to move like a predator, like a jungle cat waiting to pounce on her prey, so she locked her gaze with his, a fiery look passing between them as she took his hand and spun into the dance frame.

"No, no," he yelled, pulling away from her and turning off the music. "You have to maintain your frame. You can't keep letting your arms loosen like this," he said, grabbing her arm and wobbling it, as if to illustrate its weakness. "I shouldn't be able to do that. Keep your frame locked tight."

Sighing, she locked her arms into position, nodding her head to the side and raising her eyebrows as if to say, "Better?" Rather than respond, he crossed back toward her, taking her into his arms, testing the frame. Truthfully, the frame _was_ important, but he was more concerned with how it felt to have her body pressed against his when they danced. Keeping her at a proper distance, both physically and metaphorically, would only be to his benefit. He could think about her _that_ way later. Not while they had work to do, though.

"Keep it like that, the _entire_ dance," he directed, then restarted the music. Ziva took her place and then stepped toward him, one slow step, dragging her right foot behind her, then another, and then a rapid spin into his arms. She kept her arms so stiff that she ended up punching him in the shoulder, causing him to double over, groaning in pain.

"Are you trying to kill me?" He shouted, annoyed, as he stood back up, rolling his shoulder a few times to work out the pain that was already receding.

"The thought has crossed my mind," she muttered, growing annoyed. "But I am sorry. I did not mean to punch you. Perhaps my frame is _too_ stiff?" She asked coyly. She _had_ meant to punch him, and they both knew it.

Tony sighed, straightening up and catching her eye, realizing that she was baiting him. "Okay, so I deserved that. Where did you learn to punch like that?"

"I had to do my time in the IDF," she shrugged nonchalantly.

"Well, a lesser man would have fallen to his knees," Tony complimented, rubbing his shoulder. That would probably leave a mark.

Looking him directly in the eye, she challenged him, attempting to look as menacing as possible while wearing tights and heels. "I held back," she said, cocking her head to the side and licking the corner of her mouth.

Tony's surprise excited her, and she smirked at how he stepped away, taken aback by her threatening tone. He was easy enough to intimidate, and it was nice to be able to unnerve him when he spent most of his time unnerving her. "Great, I'm dancing with an Israeli assassin," he joked, and she narrowed her eyes at him menacingly.

"Don't tell me you're _really_ an assassin and this doctor thing is just a cover," he continued, shifting his eyes to the side. For all he knew, an army of ninja assassins were about to emerge from the woodwork and take him down.

"That is ridiculous," she responded with a shake of her head, stepping toward him. "I am who I say I am. Though I will admit that I like _assassin_ better than _princess,"_ she purred. Perhaps she should threaten him with bodily harm more often. She motioned toward the stereo, and Tony got the hint, flipping the remote to start the music again. "Shall we?"

"I'd say dancing is a bit more my speed, yeah," came the response as he pulled her toward him, her arms locking in the proper dance frame this time. He met her gaze with a nod of approval.

"Well then let us dance, and I shall not have to kill you," she responded with a smirk. His startled look made her snicker, and before she knew it, she had started to laugh at his apparent apprehension.

"What?"

"You really are too easy to threaten," she replied, giggling flirtatiously. "Or are you just intimidated by murderous royalty?" She baited him, accepting both of his titles for her and flipping them on him.

Eyes widening, he grinned, responding, "Aha, I knew it!" He pushed her away and into a spin sequence he was really quite proud to note that she'd almost mastered, pulling her back into him and catching her gaze, an amused smirk that almost dared him to put on something slow and seduce her.

If he was being honest though, he wasn't sure if _he'd_ be the one doing the seducing. Without dropping his gaze, he lifted her up off the ground, her legs opening to a split as he spun her around, one, two, three times before setting her back down onto her feet, swallowing his desire for her before praising her progress – that was the first time they'd managed that lift without stumbling out of it.

Pulling her tightly against him again, his muscles flexing as he held her firmly in position, they began the difficult footwork sequence Ziva had struggled with the most. Almost as if she'd read his thoughts, she stumbled over the step, then stomped her foot down in frustration.

He dropped his arms, releasing her from his embrace, and switched the music off. "Let's break that one down again, shall we?" he offered, recognizing that she just needed to slow it down, get her body used to the movement, and then speed it up.

Nodding, Ziva pushed her hair off her face again. Tony could tell that she was frustrated, but she got this fiery look in her eyes when she was angry, the look that indicated that perhaps _assassin_ hadn't been such an inappropriate moniker. There was passion behind that look, a passion that excited him and made him wonder, not for the first time, how she'd be in a more horizontal position.

Turning back toward her and pulling her at arm's length so he could look at her feet, Tony began to go over the footwork sequence, one step at a time. Ziva's brow furrowed in concentration, and again he couldn't help but be attracted to her, his skin tingling where she gripped him, her fingers digging into his arms as she worked through the dance.

She was keenly aware of his gaze, the way his eyes seemed to linger on hers for longer than strictly necessary, and she wasn't sure if it really _was_ the footwork sequence or his closeness that was causing her to stumble every time.

Listening to his voice, low and husky as he counted out the steps, Ziva began to lose track of what she was doing, imagining him saying other things, and before she had the chance to react, she'd tripped over her feet, falling forward, Tony catching her as she fell against him.

"Sorry," she murmured into his chest, leaning against him for longer than was strictly necessary. _Get a grip_ , she admonished herself before stepping back, immediately wishing that she could step right back into him, turn her head toward his, and kiss him until he couldn't speak anymore.

"It's fine, no harm done," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. The air was incredibly thick, and the tension was almost unbearable. He wanted her, more than he had ever wanted another woman, and he was completely taken by her, her every expression, her every voice, her every move. The worst part, though, was that he didn't even know how long he had felt that way.

Or how much longer he could keep pretending that he didn't.

* * *

The David family had eaten dinner inside the guest house tonight, and Ziva could still hear someone – a maid, probably – cleaning the plates in the kitchen sink. Eli's words rang in her ear, his disapproving tone at whatever it was she'd found to occupy herself evident. "You are out a lot. I hope you are not doing anything I would not approve of," he'd said at dinner, and she'd had to assure him that she was not.

It was, of course, a lie. Dance lessons, the likes of which she hadn't seen in over a decade, and spending time with a roguish American? _No,_ abba _, you would not approve_.

Tony excited her, though, and she felt drawn to him, even when they were not in the same room. She'd begun to crave their daily lessons, those moments when she would try not to melt in his arms as he led her in dance. He was a great dancer, and a great teacher. She wondered if he would be similarly great in … other areas.

Shaking her head to clear those thoughts from her mind, she slowly peeked her head outside the doorway and into the hallway, looking for the face of her parents or her sister. The path looked deserted, but she couldn't be sure that no one was sitting in the den area, or even in one of the bedrooms she'd have to pass.

Silently, she cursed herself for having chosen the bedroom at the very end of the hall, where she'd have the most difficulty getting out of the house unnoticed.

She'd promised Tony earlier that afternoon that she would come back for more rehearsal time after dinner, and she was determined to keep her promise. He'd mentioned that they were going to start working on the difficult lift at the end of the dance, and she was both excited and nervous at the prospect. It was the last piece of the dance that she needed to learn how to do. It was nearing seven, the time that she'd said she'd be back. Slipping back into her room, she turned to think for a moment, her eyes settling on the windows at the back of the room.

"Of course," she mumbled under her breath, then shut her bedroom door behind her, locking it. She kept her bedroom door at home locked most of the time, so no one would question it. If anyone came by and she didn't answer, she could simply say she was listening to music with her headphones and couldn't hear. Something she was also prone to do on a fairly regular basis.

She slipped out the window, leaving it open just a crack so that she'd be able to reach in and open it back up to get back inside. It would be easier to use one of the sliding doors, but she couldn't leave one of those open, because then anyone could probably get in. But she could leave one of the windows open and no one would be any the wiser.

It took her less than a minute to reach the path to the studio, and she stopped and reached into her bag for a compact, checking her appearance before completing the trek. She'd borrowed - okay, stolen - it from Tali, and she laughed at her own foolish reflection in the mirror. What was she doing, trying to seduce someone, especially when she'd be working up a sweat from dancing in such a short period of time? Did it even matter how she looked?

" _Yes,"_ she muttered to herself, and then rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. She was acting like boy-crazy Tali over this man.

Stuffing the compact back into her bag, she walked the rest of the way to the dance studio, her heart racing at the thought of another few hours with Tony, wondering if having him lift her over his head would be as exhilarating as everything else he'd shown her.

He was waiting for her in the doorway when she rounded the bend, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. Resisting the urge to run toward him, she concentrated on walking as normally as possible, aware of his eyes on her every movement. "Hi," she gasped as she neared him, and he smiled back, opening the door and letting her in.

They'd barely seen each other a minute, and already her breath felt short, as though they'd been dancing for hours. She didn't know how much longer she could pretend that it was only about dancing with him.

 _I am his partner,_ a small voice in her head reminded her, but she was finding it harder and harder to listen.

* * *

"Kick and back, turn and stop, prep and jump, lift," he called, lifting her from the ground as he did so, spinning her around to the music, then putting her back on the ground. He continued to call out the steps as they worked the last part of the dance, finally landing in their ending pose, her right leg wrapped tightly around his waist, the left leg extended beneath her, and her back arched away from him. It was a tricky pose, one that she was still struggling with, but when she managed to get it right, she could see in the mirror that it made quite the picture.

She tried not to think about the fact that her leg was wrapped around him as the music ended. Had dancing always been this sexual?

Straightening up, she pulled her leg down and stepped back, adjusting the skirt she had started practicing in, since it would closely mimic the costume she would be wearing to the audition.

"I don't like the middle lift," he muttered, then added, "something about it just isn't quite right."

"Are you going to change it?" She asked, dreading the answer. They'd had the dance "finished" for the past few days now, but every time they did it, Tony found something new that he didn't like. She was starting to get confused with all of the changes, and he was getting more and more irritated when she would mess it up.

"Maybe," he responded, and she sighed as a response, exasperated. Snapping his head up at the offending sound, he barked, " _What?_ "

She drew in another deep breath, trying her best to reign in her anger. "It is nothing. I am fine," she replied, not wanting to antagonize him. After all, this was his audition, and he was doing what he thought would be best for himself.

"No, it's not nothing. What?" he repeated, with a significant amount of bite to his tone.

"Let it go," she implored, her voice raising slightly in irritation.

"You're obviously annoyed, why?"

"Because, Tony," she spat, her face reddening at the realization that this was the first time she had spoken his name, "you keep changing things, and I am getting confused. I am trying to help you out, but every day I am getting less and less sure of myself and where my feet are supposed to go. I am trying to work with you and I am sorry that I knocked your partner down and out but I cannot work like this."

"Are you quitting on me then?" He accused, his eyes widening in dismay. He needed her.

"No! I am not going to quit, but you need to remember that I am here to save your ass. Or do you want to spend the rest of your summers teaching old women how to foxtrot?"

Tony crossed the room toward her, closing the gap by pulling her by the arm and into a dance frame. He didn't know what he'd hoped to accomplish, but she stumbled and crashed into him, anger flaring in her eyes as she looked up at him. "Oh, so you're back to threatening me again?"

"If I was, you would know," she hissed menacingly, and he didn't doubt it. Ziva had proven multiple times that she could be intimidating, and if she really wanted to kill him, she probably could. He felt her shiver and he realized just how close she was, there against his chest, the frame entirely forgotten. She was breathing heavily against him, the rise and fall of her chest next to his own causing his heartbeat to speed up, desire clouding his thoughts.

Her eyes softened momentarily, and before he realized what he was doing, he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips against hers and kissing her hungrily. She responded almost immediately, sliding her hand up his arm and around his neck to pull at his hair, tasting him with her tongue and moaning softly into his mouth. He tightened his arm around her waist, deepening the kiss and backing her toward the wall, where he pressed against her and plundered her mouth, taking all she could offer. The damn little Israeli had been under his skin since their first meeting, and he couldn't keep his distance anymore. Pulling away briefly to lock eyes with her, panting quickly before diving in again, he reached his fingers up into the curly ponytail of hers, tangling it between his fingers as he pressed against her. She pulled him tighter to her, giving as good as she got, and when he finally pulled away from her, she saw nothing but lust in his eyes, pure hunger, as though he would devour her at the first possible opportunity. A shiver went through her at the thought.

Pressing his forehead against hers, he panted heavily, attempting to catch his breath. Closing his eyes for just a moment, he opened them again with resumed composure, and said, "I shouldn't have done that."

"No," she responded, swallowing down the rejection, "it was my fault. I should not have challenged you."

"No, it was mine entirely," he argued, "for constantly changing things. It's not fair."

"How about we admit that we were both to blame?" she offered, and he nodded slightly in agreement.

"Okay," he murmured, realizing that he still had her pressed up against the wall of the studio. He was inwardly grateful that this particular wall didn't have a mirror, so no imprint of her body against the glass would need to be wiped away later.

"So…" she trailed off, dark eyes meeting his with uncertainty.

"The dance." He stepped back and pulled her away from the wall. She straightened her skirt again, then ran a hand through her hair, and he busied himself with the music, even though he still had the remote control to the stereo in his pocket. The air in the room was so thick he could barely breathe, and he wondered if she felt as tense as he did.

Tony started the music, and Ziva got into position, ready to put her predatory face back on, the one that fit the persona of the dance. She stalked toward him, unable to meet his eye as she had before, and when he reached out his arm to pull her toward him and into the dance frame, she finally caught his gaze.

"You know," he breathed, his voice low and sensual, "I have never wanted to kiss anyone as badly as I do right now."

Ziva drew in a gasp, his words settling somewhere deep inside her, and all she could think to respond was, "What's stopping you?" Before she could say anything else, his lips were once again upon hers, and she pulled him toward her again, kissing him back forcefully, her breaths coming between kisses in short, heated gasps.

She slid her hands down his back and to his waist, where she grabbed hold of his shirt and began to lift it off him, no longer willing to wait to have what she'd been craving for so long. Tony didn't complain, just helped her remove the garment and toss it aside, circling his arms around her again and kissing her with renewed vigor.

Without moving his lips from hers, Tony started trying to walk her backward toward the staircase. She was easily led on the dance floor, but she was standing her ground now, and he pulled apart to ask, "Upstairs?" before diving back in, and she nodded her approval against him. She stepped backward, pulling him with her, not wanting to let him go for even a moment while they navigated the staircase to where Tony slept.

Stumbling over the first step, Ziva lost her footing, falling backward onto the incline, and Tony toppled onto her. "Ah, shit," she grumbled as their mouths came apart, her breath coming out in short, rapid gasps as she struggled to get a handle on her rapidly beating heart.

"You all right?" Tony asked huskily, and Ziva nodded, letting out a giggle as she did. Tony leaned forward to touch his forehead to hers, planting a quick peck to her mouth before standing back up, reaching down to grab her arm and pulling her to her feet. "We should probably just walk up the stairs," he suggested sheepishly, and Ziva giggled again, nodding her head in agreement and ascending, Tony hot on her heels.

Once at the top of the staircase, they wasted no time picking up where they left off, Ziva wrapping her arms fully around his neck and pulling his face down to hers to take his mouth with her own. The feel of his bare chest crashed against her body was exhilarating, the way every point of contact between them seemed to sizzle like it was on fire. He moaned into her mouth and she felt the warmth pooling between her legs; so far he had only kissed her and she was already aching with need. His arms pulled her tightly against his body, and she ran her hands from the back of his neck to his cheeks, touching his face tenderly and pulling away, just momentarily, to gasp, "Tony."

Groaning, he reached his arms down to the hem of her tank top, inching it up and off slowly. Each new expanse of skin he uncovered felt like heaven to his fingertips, and he reveled in the feel of her smooth, toned stomach under his hands. Calloused fingers slowly traced their way along her skin, causing Ziva to shiver under his touch, the anticipation all but consuming her. His hands slowly slid their way up her back, reaching around to unclasp her bra, inching the straps down her shoulders. She finished the task, reaching with both hands to pull the straps down and drop the bra unceremoniously onto the floor.

Sure hands found their way to where her bra had been, palming her breasts, a low groan dragging from his throat. Tony's thumb lightly brushed over her nipples, teasing them to arousal, feeling something tighten inside as he watched her throw her head back and groan with approval. It was almost like a dance, the way he held her close but then let her fall away, her body's exquisite movements making him quiver with need.

Slowly, she lifted her head back up, locking her gaze with his and pulling him back toward her for another slow, lingering kiss, his hands wrapping around her and pulling her body tightly into him. Ziva groaned into his mouth at the feel of her bare skin against his, and Tony seemed to groan back in appreciation.

Pulling her lips from his momentarily, she breathed, "I need you," then leaned over to kiss his neck, slowly tasting his skin, alternating between sucking lightly, nibbling, and planting hot kisses along his neck and shoulders. Slowly, she ran her hand down his chest, letting her fingers lightly graze the skin of his torso, one hand still wrapped tightly around his neck pulling him back to her lips to consume his lips anew.

Tony wrapped his arms tightly around her again, giving into the heady feeling of Ziva's lips on his, taking and tasting liberally, reaching up to pull her hair down from its ponytail and tangle his fingers into her curls, pulling lightly at her hair and giving her a slight touch of pain to go along with the pleasure. He pulled apart, momentarily, only to gasp her name against her lips, then returned to kissing her with renewed vigor, the taste of her lips too sweet, too intoxicating, to pull away from for very long.

So caught up in how good she tasted and the feel of his fingers in her wild hair, Tony hadn't even noticed that Ziva had managed to unbutton his pants, reaching her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers until she firmly grasped his straining cock in her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. He pulled away slightly, gasping at the feel of her touch. Slowly, she began to stroke him, leaning forward to capture his mouth again, moaning as she did so.

He thrust his hips forward and into her hand, running his hands slowly down to her waist, sliding the skirt she'd been wearing for practice down her hips and letting it fall to the floor, pooling at her feet. He pulled his mouth from hers, appreciating the view of this hot Israeli woman wearing nothing but panties and heels and stroking his cock, gasping out, "God, _yes,_ " before leaning to kiss her again, pushing her backward toward his bed.

Ziva felt her legs hit the back of the bed and almost didn't have a chance to catch herself before falling, letting Tony crash on top of her, landing with a slight "oof" and causing her to giggle. She lifted her hands to his head, tangling them in his hair and let her lips graze his. The feel of his body weighing down was almost too much, the way his skin felt warm against her own, the contact between them tingling like an electrical shock.

Almost without warning, Tony found himself on his back, Ziva straddling him and rolling her hips against his arousal. "You may lead on the floor," she teased, her voice thick with lust, "but I like to lead in the bedroom."

He didn't want to argue, not with the way her body was writhing on top of him, so he merely reached his hands to her hips and played at the elastic of her panties. Catching the hint, Ziva pulled away just long enough to slide them off, dropping them on the floor, before settling back down, her wet heat just in front of where he wanted her the most, his cock hard against her ass. Tony sucked in a breath, a sharp gasp at the feel of her so close, and he reached his hands back to her hips, reaching forward in an attempt to touch her.

He locked eyes with her momentarily before sliding his hand forward and through her trimmed curls, moving his fingers slowly toward her center, finally grazing his finger over her clit. Ziva let out a tortured gasp, throwing her head back, and Tony lightly grazed his finger back over her, rubbing her barely at all, enjoying the way she leaned into his touch. She was leaning one hand on his chest, another touching her own, teasing her nipple and fondling herself, and Tony was powerless to stop himself becoming even _more_ aroused, if that was even possible.

"More," she begged, grinding against his hand, " _please."_ He began to touch her with greater intensity, rubbing her clit faster and harder, causing her to moan with pleasure, and Tony watched with interest as she rolled her hips toward him, taking all he would give her and begging for more. The hand that she'd used to caress her breast was sliding down her stomach, reaching for his own hand, which she led further, begging, "Put your fingers in me."

Unable to speak, Tony merely grunted, giving a sharp nod. She'd barely touched him at all and he felt as though he would burst, his skin on fire everywhere she touched him, and he couldn't wait to feel her wetness around him. Sliding his fingers forward, he slowly inserted one, then another finger into her, and Ziva gasped, " _Yessssss,"_ elongating the word into a delighted moan.

Tony began to skillfully stroke her, watching as she slid her free hand back up to touch herself. Although he was enjoying the show, he wanted to kiss her again, so Tony reached his own free hand to pull her down, begging, "Kiss me," and Ziva happily obliged, their tongues moving in time with his fingers curling inside her.

Panting between kisses, her moans getting louder, Tony could tell that Ziva was on the verge of her release, and he stroked her faster, using his thumb to rub her clit as he twisted his fingers between her legs. Gasping for breath, her stomach tightening with the feeling of her oncoming orgasm, Ziva gasped, " _Tony,_ " before coming unglued, her legs beginning to quiver. Tony continued to stroke her, watching her intently as she came, her eyes closed and her mouth open in pleasure, her breath coming out in short, husky pants against his cheek. "Fuck," she gasped, opening her eyes, a smirk on her face as she rolled her hips back, noting that he was still very much hard and poking her ass cheek.

"God, you're beautiful," Tony murmured, noting the way her eyes were glowing, her skin glistening with sweat, her hair wild and oddly erotic.

Without responding, Ziva leaned into him and pressed her lips to his, taking his tongue into her mouth in a scorching kiss that caused a shiver to run down her spine, a warmth already pooling between her legs where, she realized, she was nowhere near satisfied completely. Slowly, she ran her fingers down his chest, enjoying the way his chest hair felt beneath her fingers as she slowly sat back up. She settled her hands on his abdomen and lifted her hips slightly and rocked against his hard length, looking at Tony with a playful glint in her eye.

"Do you want me?" She teased, tilting her head slightly to one side and touching the corner of her mouth with her tongue, noting the way he squirmed beneath her as she proceeded to slowly lick her lips, her eyes practically devouring him. If he'd thought she had been predatory while dancing, it had _nothing_ on the way she was looking at him right now.

" _God,_ yes," he rasped, almost unable to utter the words. He gulped, feeling painfully hard with anticipation.

" _Do_ you," she cooed, lifting her hips up so that her entrance was hovering just over the head of his cock, an almost pained look in his eyes as he watched her, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight of her perfect form above him, wanting to watch when she took that final step and took him into her. The thought of it made him jerk forward, but Ziva reacted quickly, lifting just out of his reach.

Leaning forward slightly and meeting his gaze, she reminded him, "I'm in charge," with a predatory sultriness, and he silently catalogued this moment as one he would remember for the rest of his life.

" _Please,"_ he croaked out, unable to stop himself from begging at this point. He was dying to feel her heat around him, feel her walls contracting around him as she came, and he could barely stand the torture of waiting any longer.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," she cooed, and slowly, _slowly,_ she lowered herself so that just his tip was inside her, and much to his delight, she gasped at the contact. Fuck, he was barely inside her and she felt incredible.

" _Please,"_ he begged again, and he could tell that by the way that she was biting her lip that her own resolve was crumbling. He reached his hands to her hips, wanting to hold her, and she slowly, almost torturously, sank onto him, letting out a low, primal moan at how _fucking good_ he felt inside her. "Fuck," Tony growled, pulling her down to kiss him, his mouth absolutely devouring hers as she sat atop him, her hips rolling slightly, just enough to keep him feeling like he would explode any moment.

Gasping, Ziva pulled back, her forehead touching his as she began to move on top of him in earnest, her hips rocking in long, slow thrusts away from and then back onto him, her eyes locked with his as she crashed into him, her breathing coming out in short moans against his lips.

He began tangling his hands in her hair as he began to meet her thrusts, driving up into her with all the force he could manage with her pinning him to the bed, dominating him in the hottest way possible. Her legs were tight against him as she rode him, and Tony felt as though she were everywhere, every inch of him surrounded by Ziva, her contact leaving ashes in its wake.

"You feel …" she began, panting against him as she rode him, long, hard strokes before crashing back down into him, _"incredible,"_ she finished, her words clipped and her accent more pronounced. If she were being honest, she was having trouble finding the words, concentrating only on _Tony_ filling her and thrusting up into her.

"I want to fuck you," he begged, and without giving her a chance to respond, he rolled them over in one smooth motion, kissing her deeply before pushing down into her rapidly and hard, making her cry out at each deep thrust into her.

"Fuck!" she screamed, wrapping her leg around his back and meeting him thrust for thrust, dragging her nails down his back and biting at his neck. He growled savagely, leaning down to return a bite of his own to her shoulder, and she yelped, the pain and the pleasure mingling.

Her body was humming with desire, and she could tell that Tony was getting close to his climax, the way his body glistened with sweat and his face seemed tight with concentration. "Touch my clit," she begged, and he lifted his arm almost immediately, rubbing her sensitive bud with his thumb, causing her to cry out. " _Yes,_ " she screamed, feeling her own release coming, screaming, "More!"

He was fucking her so fast, she could barely see straight anymore, and his finger was skillfully circling her clit, her breasts tight with arousal and her body was afire, and soon she was seeing stars, screaming, _"Tony!"_ as she came around him, her walls clenching him as he continued to thrust deep into her, a strangled moan passing from his lips as he too came, spilling into her with a few slow, final thrusts before he stilled, his body quivering from the exertion.

He lay on top of her for a while, his heavy breathing matching her own deep gasps, her arms still wrapped tightly around him. She planted a kiss to his shoulder, her breathing still uneven, and he squeezed her hip where his hand still rested as a response.

 _If we never move from this position_ , she thought, his cock still partially hard inside her, _I would not mind_. Tangled together and exhausted, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

It wasn't long before they woke again, but both were reluctant to leave the comfort of the other, and they lay together in his bed, Ziva's head resting lightly on his chest, her fingers absently running through the hair on his chest.

"So I have to ask," he broke the silence, his fingers running a light trail over the bare skin of her arm, "why do you feel like it's so important to go to med school, despite not wanting to?"

She was feeling comfortable and safe, and it wasn't a question she normally would have answered, but she found herself opening up, and spoke, "My father is angry with me. I have to comply with his wishes this time."

"This time?" Tony pressed, and noted that Ziva didn't seem aggravated or put off by the question.

"I rejected a marriage proposal from the son of one of his business associates, whom I was expected to marry," she responded simply, but Tony noted how she stiffened at the mention.

"The guy hurt you," he surmised, and if Ziva was surprised, she didn't show it.

If anyone else had made that statement, she would have been angry, or at the very least indignant, that someone would make such an assumption about her, but with Tony, she felt comfortable opening up. She nuzzled her face into his chest briefly before looking up toward him and answering, "I could not live my life with someone like that." She paused, and drew in a breath. "Whenever he touched me, it made my skin crawl. I would not say that he hurt me, only that …" she trailed off. "Only that … I should not have let him near me, even though it was what my father wanted."

"Do you think he might have? Hurt you, I mean." The question surprised her. It was not something that she'd even thought to ask herself. She knew only that Michael had made her extremely uncomfortable and on edge.

"I … do not know," she replied honestly, and her response seemed to Tony as though the thought had just now occurred to her. Perhaps he would have, and she was even more justified than she had thought in refusing his proposal. "I think, yes. Probably."

She was alarmed at how easy it was to confide in Tony, something she didn't do often. In fact, she had never spoken of her disgust with Michael to anyone, not even Tali. Baring her soul to this man was new and somewhat terrifying. Somehow, though, she felt like she could trust him.

They lay together for a few moments, their breathing the only sounds in the room as Tony lightly rubbed his hand along her back, until she broke the silence, asking, "So who was that woman the other morning?"

"What woman? What morning?" He asked, his mind already wandering, thinking about how he'd like to wrap his arms around her, pull her close, and make her scream his name until morning.

"The morning that Mandy and I collided. Who was she?"

A low chuckle rumbled out of him, and he shrugged, as much as he could with her lying partially on top of him. He didn't answer, though, and Ziva lifted her head up, looking pointedly at him, expecting an answer. He tilted his head away slightly, grimacing sheepishly. "Well, you know, a lot of these women … their husbands ignore them so they would … come to me. They didn't want anything emotional. Neither did I. I kind of liked the idea of screwing with married women. They would be discreet. She's … one of those."

"So you were using her for sex?"

"Well, when you put it that way …" he trailed off, cringing, then took a deep breath and paused before letting it out. "Okay, yeah. I was. Kind of. But she was too, you know?" He felt her nod against his chest. A few moments of silence passed, and neither said anything. Finally, he reached his hand up to Ziva's chin, tilting her face so that she could look at him. "It meant nothing. And hooking up with married chicks meant I didn't have to worry about what would happen the next morning. They'd go home at night."

"Is this your subtle way of kicking me out?" She asked, a twinge of panic threatening, and she prepared for him to smirk and push her away, as he had the first night they'd danced together.

His eyes softened, a light smile forming across his face. "No. I want _you_ to stay. Right here."

She smiled in response, pushing herself up on her elbow to kiss him, a long, leisurely kiss that caused him to moan into her mouth, his tongue taking and tasting. She smiled as she pulled away, murmuring, "I am glad to be different," and lay her head back down across his chest, squeezing him tight for just a second before loosening her grip.

They spent several more moments like that, Tony running his hands up and down the arm that was draped across him, and Ziva lightly kissing his chest where her head lay, sometimes tilting to kiss his neck. It was intimate and not at all sexual, just quiet, and comfortable, and _perfect._

"You know, if my father knew I was here he would be … oh how does the saying go … he would be pissed on to me?"

"Pissed off at you," he corrected with a chuckle, ignoring how endearing her English mistakes made her, trying not to think about how much he loved correcting her. _Loved?_ He put the thought out of his mind, unwilling to go there. Yet.

"Yes, yes. That is it," came her response, and Tony could practically feel her mentally cataloging the phrase for future use.

"Does that mean you have to go?" He asked, hoping after having admitted that he didn't want to kick her out that she wouldn't be the one to turn and leave. The vulnerability frightened him, and he didn't know how to feel about the anxiety he felt at the prospect that she might leave, even though she would have to go back to her family sometime, and leave the resort – and him, behind. He pushed the thought out of his mind. Was he really thinking of her beyond this summer?

She broke the silence only a few moments later, speaking quietly against his skin. Her hand traced patterns across his arm. "I should. But I have my own bedroom room with its own lock. I do not think I will be missed," she offered hopefully, not wanting to leave.

"Bedroom room," he repeated, smirking, adding "either bedroom or room, but not both," when he saw her confused look. "But will you stay?" He invited, a question, Ziva suspected, meant more than just for the night. It was full of promise. A warm shiver ran up her spine at the thought that he wanted her close to him, and she snuggled in closer.

"Yes."

* * *

 **As I have said previously, the support I've received for this has been lovely. Thank you for all of your reviews, messages, tweets, reblogs, etc. It's all been fantastic and I'm so glad you're all taking this journey with me. Chapter 5 goes up on Thursday.**


	5. What Love's All About

**Chapter 5: What Love's All About**

* * *

"And back, and turn-turn-turn, and – c'mere," Tony spun Ziva back into him, planting a searing kiss to her lips as the music blared on around them. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly into him before she pulled away, her face changing to a fake stern expression, her lips closed tightly but a hint of a smile in her eyes.

"We have to focus," she reprimanded him without even a hint of sincerity, planting a light peck to his lips before backing away again.

"I am focused," Tony answered pointedly, raising an eyebrow. _On you,_ he didn't have to say.

"You are _not_ ," she argued, and she reached into his pocket to pull the stereo remote out and restart the music, tucking it back in and taking her place across the floor as the song picked up from the beginning again.

She didn't even get the chance to spin into the frame before Tony grabbed her and pulled her against him again, sliding his hands down her back to circle around her ass, kissing her with short, light pecks and dancing with her like they were in a club and not a ballroom dance studio.

"Tony!" she cried, struggling against him, adding between kisses, "We! Have! To! Practice!"

"I just can't get enough of you," he said almost apologetically before pulling her close and kissing her again.

Pulling away again, her face flushed, Ziva gasped out, "Your audition."

Striding toward her, Tony took her into his arms again, kissing her neck and causing her to tremble in his arms. Light moans escaped her lips as he traveled lower, down her collarbone and past her chest to lift up her shirt and plant a kiss to her stomach. "Tony," she warned, but she had to admit that she wasn't being very convincing.

"Yes?" He murmured against her skin, reaching around to grab her ass again. Every touch sent a shock through her, and she felt the moisture pooling between her legs.

This was _rehearsal_ time, though, and the show was getting so close. "The audition is in five days," she reminded him, sounding almost regretful.

Stepping back again, leaving him on his knees, an almost sad, puppy-dog look in his eyes, she felt almost bad seeing his dejected face. She did a spin with the music, kicking her foot in front of her and shaking her hips for his benefit, then ran her hands up her body and through her hair, never missing a beat with her footwork. Tony practically growled at her, his obvious hunger for her threatening to overwhelm him. "You don't really want to work right now," he accused huskily, the low tone of his voice sending a shiver down her spine.

Never leaving his gaze, she sunk down to his level, getting on her hands and knees and crawling slowly across the floor toward him, acting like a lioness on the hunt. He moved toward her, as well, and when they met, their lips crashed together, and Tony lifted one hand off the floor to tangle in her hair, pulling her mouth against his and taking her, the muscle in his jaw flexing as he worked his tongue into her mouth.

Pulling Ziva with him, he sat down on the backs of his legs, taking his free hand and wrapping it around her waist. Still using the tips of her fingers to support herself, Ziva scooted forward on her knees and into his embrace, finally settling with one knee between his, picking up her hands to take his face into hers as she returned his kisses, never breaking the contact between them.

"Mmmmm," Tony groaned into her mouth, the sound causing her to shiver again and slide even closer to him. Finally, she collided with him and began to lean sideways toward the floor before settling down halfway on top of him, her hand across his chest and her legs tangled in his.

His arms had just started to tighten around her, the kiss becoming slower and more intense, when the sound of the door slamming broke them apart. Startled, they both looked up toward the door, noting Tim's shocked expression at having caught them in a very compromising and very much non-dancing position.

"Uh…" he started, his face reddening as he stood in place, blinking rapidly and trying to find the words.

"Hello, Tim," Ziva said simply, sitting up and away from Tony and running her fingers through her hair. Tony marveled at how calm she sounded considering the fact that she had been panting for breath just a few moments beforehand.

"I uh…" Tim began again, then drew in a breath, his face still bright red. "I came to see how the, um … the rehearsals were going." Ziva stood up and reached down to grab Tony's outstretched hand to pull him up. He brushed the seat of his pants with his hands, then wiped his hands down the front of his pants.

"They are going fine," Ziva said evenly. "At least, I believe they are, but I am not the dance teacher," she added innocently, glancing at Tony, who was acting tense, as though he'd suddenly become uncomfortable with her in the room. Or was that because of Tim?

"Fine," echoed Tony absentmindedly. "Hey uh, listen Tim. You just came up here and we were practicing, all right?"

"No you weren't, you were–"

"Practicing," Tony repeated sharply, interrupting him, looking at Tim pointedly. "We were _practicing."_

Catching on, Ziva jumped in, adding, "Technically, he is giving me lessons, which I have paid for up front. Since I believe there is no audition, yes?" A grin spread across Tony's face at Ziva's addition to his cover story. He wasn't sure how much she knew about his history with Vandenberg, but she seemed to have picked up on the fact that this wasn't something that was meant to be widely known.

Somehow, he'd always known he could trust her.

"Right," Tim agreed, his eyes darting back and forth between them. "But you guys were–"

They both spoke at the same time. "Rehearsing."

"Taking dance lessons."

Tim nodded, looking uncertain. The room was quiet for a few moments, Tony and Ziva catching each other's sidelong glances and Tim looking on uncomfortably. After what seemed like several minutes of awkward silence, Tim finally found his voice, saying, "I'm not going to blab to Vandenberg, you know. About the audition. Or the two of you."

"Tim," Tony warned, but the other man didn't let him finish.

"I watched you guys flirt the night of the party. I'm, um, actually not surprised. But I won't say anything." Tim's short outburst of courage ended, and he puffed out a huge burst of air, obvious relief setting in.

"Thank you," Ziva answered, deciding not to give Tony the chance to respond. She'd seen him act rudely to Tim before, and while she didn't know their history or whether Tim had given Tony a reason to act that way, she didn't think it was necessary to be impolite.

"Anyway I, uh…" Tim started again, remembering the real reason he'd come to the studio. "I need to let you know about the party next Saturday." He turned toward Ziva slightly, explaining, "It's for the whole resort, staff and guests. We have to serve dinner, but after that, we get to enjoy ourselves. It's always a great time. Anyway," he looked at Tony again, "We'll need your help setting up, around two. Can you make it?"

"Yeah, of course," Tony responded. He was glad it wasn't something serious, and now that he realized how he and Ziva had been caught, he was glad it wasn't some _one_ more serious.

"Cool," responded Tim, and he smiled, a genuinely happy look about him. "You should teach me to dance someday," he added, and tried to do a few steps, but ended up tripping over his feet and stumbling.

"Perhaps not," Ziva teased, and Tim nodded sheepishly while Tony smirked toward her. _Nice one,_ he thought.

"Anyway, we have work to do," Tony began, "but I'll be glad to help out for the party. And I'll let you know how it goes." Tim looked confused for a second, but then his eyes widened as he realized what Tony was talking about. The audition.

"Right. Yeah. Um, get to work," he prodded, and strode out the door, letting the wind slam it shut behind him.

"If the audition goes well, I'm asking you to be my date to this party," Tony said, walking to the door and locking it. "Should have done that," he pointed at the lock, "a long time ago."

Ziva nodded, then recognized what he'd said. "Wait, only if it goes well?" She mocked being offended, stepping toward him.

"Yeah, see…" he began, then paused, thinking for a moment. "If I get picked up by this company, I don't care if I'm caught with you. Vandenberg can fire me and it won't matter. But if I don't, well, I have to keep my job, and to do that, I have to … well, I have to pretend we're just acquaintances. Or partners."

"Partners," she echoed.

"You understand?" He asked, though it sounded more like a statement, and he worried about whether she would be hurt at how casual he was being.

"Yes," she responded, her voice sounding clipped. Going to the dance, showing up as Tony's date. She wanted it, so badly. Her heart ached with longing, longing to take him back to the house, announce to her family that she was with him, longing to dance with him in public and not in secret. "I do not know if I can."

"Huh? Why not?"

She drew in a breath, stepping toward him and taking his hand. "Please understand. It is my father. I would love to go with you, Tony. We would dance together all night and I would have the time of my life. But my father, he would not understand. He would … I do not even know what he would do."

"You're afraid of him. Of what he might think," Tony accused. "Or just ashamed of me?"

Shock registered on her face at his words. "Oh, you are going to talk? Asking Tim to keep this a secret, sneaking around so you do not get fired?"

"That's different." He drew his hand away, out of her grasp. She stepped forward, but he stepped backward. Sighing, Ziva stood her ground, catching his gaze and imploring him to understand.

"How is it different? Do you not think we would face similar consequences, if your boss or my father found out?"

"Ziva–"

"Do not _Ziva_ me," she retorted angrily. "There are high stakes in this for both of us, you know. Or did you not realize that whenever I walk into this room, whenever I step into your arms, I feel – for the first time – like I am not trapped?"

"Really?" he asked quietly, his face softening.

"Yes, _really._ I have never … I have never felt this _free_ before. When we are together, I am laughing, I am happy. I do not worry about living up to a lifetime of expectations. I … I only worry about the steps … and I," she paused, taking in a few breaths before continuing, "I worry about what I will do, when we leave this place – and most importantly, _you –_ behind."

He crossed toward her, placing his hands on her arms and kissing her on the forehead. "Ziva," he whispered, before pulling her into a gentle kiss, his arms slowly wrapping their way around her, and she sighed into his embrace.

She pulled away first, looking longingly into his eyes. "It is not that I do not want to be your date at the party. I want to more than _anything,_ " she asserted, her hands tightening on his shoulders. "But you have to understand about my father. He has always wanted me to be like him. Successful, powerful. And I have tried my entire life to please him, but I never have. I keep thinking that if I do everything he asks, he will be pleased; he will be proud. But … but …" she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Tony tightened his arm around her waist, encouraging her to continue. She opened her eyes back up and caught him looking at her intently.

"You are such an amazing woman, and your father is an idiot if he can't see that," he said quietly, barely above a whisper.

"I know. But … I still love him, despite it all. Sometimes, I am so _angry_ at him, that he cannot see reason, but other times, I just want to make him proud _,_ " she stated, a single tear rolling down her cheek. Tony pulled her closer to him, tucking her head beneath his chin. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, tousling her hair, drawing a light chuckle from her. He held her, rubbing his hand up and down her back, comforting her.

"Listen," he said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head, "I know how badly you want to please your father. I uh … went through something similar, with dancing. But did you ever consider telling him to piss off, and do your own thing? Something _you_ want?"

She pulled back, her jaw dropping as she looked at him with astonishment. "Of course I have … but I … I _can't_ do that!" _Or can you?_ she thought, not for the first time. What could Eli honestly say? What could he honestly do? She was an adult, after all, and being left in New York after the family went back to Israel would make it incredibly easy for her to break free.

Tony watched her with interest, noting the way she mulled over the idea in her head. He understood the struggle; he'd lived it a few years ago. He wouldn't push her, but he could tell that she would be much happier without her father's influence. "You _could_ ," he said quietly after a few moments.

"I …" she trailed off.

"Think about it," he shrugged, and added, "and maybe be my date anyway. Is one date going to hurt anything?" He pouted his lip, acting like a wounded puppy, and she punched him lightly on the arm with a trace of a smile beginning to form on her face.

"I will think about it. About both things," she added in response to the question he was going to ask. "I would not like to go with anyone but you." And what would it hurt, going to the party with him? She was staying in America without her family after this vacation anyway.

"Good," he grinned. "Now, we should probably get back to dancing." She raised her eyebrows at him, as if to point out that _she'd_ been the one who wanted to practice all along, but he merely smirked at her, and led her by the hand to the center of the room.

* * *

"Okay, watch _everything_ , as if you were a judge," Tony said nervously, addressing Mandy from across the room. She'd recently gotten a walking cast – a significant improvement to her quality of life, no doubt – and she had come to watch Tony and Ziva dance together to ensure that everything looked the way it should. He'd given her a notebook to write down what – if anything – needed improvement.

"Make sure you're keeping an eye on technique, and make–"

"I know how to judge dancing," Mandy snapped, interrupting him. Her voice softened. "Go take your place. I'll handle the music."

Crossing the room, Tony caught Ziva's eye, silently giving her a look that said, _behave._ Ziva nodded almost imperceptibly, her eyes dancing in response. He could count on her to be just his dance partner while Mandy was around, but after she left, he figured they'd be all over each other again.

They'd just work up a little tension here on the floor in the meantime.

The music started, and just as they'd practiced a thousand times, Ziva started to talk toward him, her eyes alight as if she would eat him alive. She'd been great at getting into character before, but now that they'd started sleeping together, she'd really stepped up her game.

He pulled her into the dance frame, trying not to think about how _hot_ it was, the way she looked at him when they were dancing. And when they were in bed. And when …

They executed everything with near perfection, the spin sequences, the difficult footwork, the kicks, and the lifts, and their chemistry during this performance seemed to sizzle, more so than ever before. He lifted her into the air for the final time, setting her down and into a spin sequence that would culminate with them landing in the final pose.

It had been a lot of hard work, but Tony finally felt confident about the dance and his chances, even without his original partner. And if she could keep up the intensity when they were on stage in a few days, they'd absolutely nail it.

"Great job," he whispered as she pulled away from him, stepping so that she was next to him, letting him take her hand for a quick bow sequence they'd rehearsed. She squeezed his hand, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye and catching his own sidelong glance, letting a smirk light her face.

"Well?" Tony asked, looking for Mandy for critique. Ziva dropped Tony's hand abruptly, choosing instead to fold her hands in front of her stomach, waiting nervously for Mandy's opinion.

"I'm … actually impressed," came the response. Tony and Ziva beamed at each other, and Tony let out a huge sigh of relief.

He crossed the room, picking up the notebook and looking at what she'd written, absentmindedly asking, "What do we need to work on?"

Ziva crossed toward where Tony stood as well, leaning over his shoulder to read Mandy's comments. Her handwriting was atrocious, and rather than attempt to decipher bad writing, she waited for Tony to point out what needed work.

"Keep your toes pointed on the lifts – yes, definitely. Really stretch the toes. Do it now, lemme see," he said, looking at her as she lifted her foot, pointing it as much as she could with the heels on her feet. He reached down and lifted her leg up to waist level, adjusting the foot to a better position. "Like that. Okay?" Ziva nodded, feeling very much like a child as he let her leg go and she set it back on the ground.

"What does this even _say?_ " He asked, pointing at something on the page.

"Carriage is good," Mandy replied exasperatedly. It seemed to Ziva as though the handwriting had come up before. "Both of you. I was impressed with how tightly you both held the frame even during fast sequences."

"We worked on that a lot," Tony said, reaching to put his arm around Ziva's shoulder to pat her lightly. "Glad it paid off."

"What else?" Ziva asked, noting that Tony still had his arm around her shoulder. She tried not to pay it any mind, but these days, his touch was nearly impossible to ignore.

"We need better movement around the floor," Tony replied, reading from the page. "That one's on me. We'll work on that one a bit, but I don't want to change too much." Ziva let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

"Turns are good, could be a bit faster and tighter, but they look really great and that's just nitpicking at this point," Mandy said, glancing at Ziva, then added, "And she's not the one auditioning here."

"Yeah, but part of being a male is showing off the girl," Tony responded, a twinge of worry on his face.

"I don't think you have to worry about that. Do the turns again, show him what I mean," Mandy instructed, and Ziva stole a look at Tony, who nodded at her apologetically.

Ziva stalked to the center of the room, feeling again like she was a child, being told to go play away from the grown-ups. She took a prep position for the turns, and then did the turn sequence, a series of turns in both directions that also included some intricate footwork, finishing with a flourish. She looked at Tony again, who didn't respond to her questioning look. "Would you like to see it again?" she asked, since he appeared unsure.

"No, no. Sorry. You look fine, Mandy's right," he responded. She crossed back over to where he and Mandy were standing, still looking at the notes she'd written.

"Only fine?" she teased, perhaps a bit more flirtatiously than she had intended, but neither Tony nor Mandy seemed to notice.

"I gotta hand it to you, princess," Mandy started, earning a glare from Ziva at the nickname, "you shocked the hell out of me. Those judges probably won't be able to tell that you just learned to ballroom dance a few weeks ago."

Ziva's glare softened into gratitude, and she smiled at the older woman. "Thank you. I am sure that it is killing you to sit and watch with your foot in that stupid brace. I am still sorry, for what it is worth."

Mandy only half-smiled, but didn't say anything. Clearly, the leg was still a touchy subject. "Well, I might as well take off, you've gotta practice a bit more tonight, right?"

"Yeah, another hour or so," Tony responded, taking the notebook from Mandy's hands and setting it down on the chair she'd been sitting in earlier. He followed Mandy to the door, adding, "Thanks for the help," as she closed the door behind her. Tony clicked the lock and then strode over to where Ziva stood waiting expectantly for him, pulling her into his arms for a long, passionate kiss.

"I have been dying to do that," he murmured, then kissed her again, a slow, sweet embrace that started out gently, then slowly rose in intensity, lips colliding with each other between gasps and moans, the pair clinging to one another as though they could not breathe without the other's embrace.

"Are we really rehearsing tonight?" Ziva asked breathlessly when they pulled away again, their foreheads touching and their lips close enough that her words were kisses in their own right. She'd thought they were planning other activities, but perhaps her review had been much less favorable than she'd thought?

"God, no," he responded, picking her up off the ground and letting her wrap her legs around him, carrying them both to the stairwell and up to his bedroom. There would be time for rehearsing again tomorrow.

Tonight was _theirs._

* * *

"I haven't seen much of you, darling," Malinda's haughty voice interrupted Tony's thoughts as he walked with his plate toward an empty table. He'd chosen to come to dinner late to avoid most of the crowds, but Mrs. du Champ had still found him. Ziva had gone back to the guest house for the night, wanting to get a good night's rest before the audition tomorrow.

Something she _definitely_ wouldn't get if she'd stayed with him tonight.

"I've been pretty busy this summer," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging off his halfhearted apology.

"That's never been an issue before," she insisted, leaning in closer. Her perfume was overpowering, and Tony felt his appetite start to wane as the aroma seemed to settle all around him. He'd have to shower to erase the smell, not for Ziva's benefit, but his own. She smelled … nauseating.

"What can I say, people want dance lessons this year." He really didn't want to make a scene with this woman, so he sat down and began to cut his steak, taking a huge bite without acknowledging her continued presence.

She sat down in the chair next to his, leaning toward him. _Damn, woman,_ he thought, swallowing his food, _I am trying to eat here._ He tried not to let his irritation show.

"You don't seem to have anything going on tonight," she cooed, running her hand up and down his left arm.

He took a drink of his water, trying to delay answering her. He wasn't interested – in fact, he hadn't really even thought about another woman since Ziva came back with him to dance all those weeks ago. Setting down his glass, he turned to look at the older woman, who was practically salivating over him.

"No, I don't," he started, but before he could continue, she cut in.

"Wonderful! Then when you finish eating, we can–"

"I wasn't finished," he interrupted. The horrified look on her face almost made him smile. Almost. "I'm going back to my room. Alone." He paused. "You're not coming with me." He watched as her face twisted back into a smile, and he knew that she had not gotten the message.

"Oh, darling, that's _ridiculous,_ " she laughed, smacking his arm. "Of _course_ I am!"

Tony sighed and put his fork down. He reached over to her hand and removed it from his arm. "No," he said slowly and clearly, his irritation rising, "you're not, Mrs. du Champ. You're not coming with me. Not tonight, and not any other night."

She looked so offended, he thought she might fall over and die from the shock at what he'd just said. "Why … _you …"_ she sputtered in anger, standing up and looking down at him menacingly. "I'll have you fired for this!" she threatened, and he shrugged in response, taking another bite of his steak.

"I've done nothing wrong," came the response through chewed food. _Maybe if I act like a disgusting pig, she'll leave me alone,_ he thought.

"You can't … you can't just …" she started, then paused, pursing her lips together.

"I can't just what? Can't just make a decision for myself, because _you_ or any of your other rich friends say I can't?" He stood up, the legs of the chair scraping loudly across the floor. "Because I am not a servant here, and I don't live to please your whims. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to finish my dinner in peace, _ma'am._ " He stared her down, and she stared back. It took only a few moments for her to realize that he wasn't going to give in, and she huffed out an offended breath and then stalked off. Tony let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and sat back down.

He finished his dinner quickly, not waiting to see if she would come back. He knew Malinda's type, and she wasn't the type who appreciated not getting her way, but he shook his head, resolving not to worry about her. He just wasn't into casual sex anymore. He'd been screwing around long enough, both professionally and privately, and it was time for a change.

Walking the path from the cafeteria back to the studio, he imagined how it would feel to come back tomorrow and pack up his belongings, leaving Vandenberg's forever. A slight pang hit him, however, at the thought of leaving the one thing that had made this summer bearable – _Ziva._ It would only be for a little while, because she was going to school in New York anyway, but he'd gotten so used to her presence that it was hard to imagine his life without her.

 _How quickly things change,_ he thought. What had started as just a sexual attraction had become so much more in such a short amount of time. Whatever happened at the end of the summer when one – or both of them – left the resort, he would do anything to ensure that they could somehow stay together.

* * *

Ziva put the last few items she would need for the audition into her bag, then rifled through and double checked that everything on her list was there. She was nervous, but knowing that she had everything that she would need ready to go would remove one worry from her mind.

The only thing left to do was talk Tali into covering for her.

Setting her bag down outside the door to her bedroom, Ziva walked down the hallway to the room where her sister had set up residence. She had selected a room decorated mostly in yellow – her favorite color – and had wasted no time in moving in, with clothing strewn throughout the room. Tali could not live without her own personal form of not-so-controlled chaos.

"Tali," she called, catching her sister's attention. She looked up from her magazine for a second, then looked down, flipping the next page, an obvious show of ignoring her sister.

Ziva groaned inwardly. She hadn't thought Tali would be this upset with her for not wanting to spend her days watching boys by the pool. By now, surely, her sister would have found _someone_ with whom she could spend time?

"Tali," she said again, more firmly. "Do you have just a minute, please?"

The younger girl again looked up from her magazine, appearing to contemplate the request. Ziva had a sense of urgency about her, and Tali had never been one to turn down someone in need. Even if that someone was her older sister, who had been ignoring her for days, sneaking off to parts unknown almost all the time.

"Yes?" Tali asked, giving Ziva the opening she needed to cross the room and sit down on her bed.

"I have to do something. It is … a debt I must repay to someone. It involves me leaving the resort for a while tonight," she started, noting how her sister's eyes grew incredulous, her mouth opening to show that whatever she had expected Ziva to say, it hadn't been that. Ziva gave her sister a chance to process the information, then continued, "Please, I will keep my door locked, but tell _Abba_ that I have not been feeling well, and that is why I am not at dinner."

"You wish me to lie?" Her sister hissed, her thick accent making it difficult for Ziva to understand what she'd said at first.

"No! I mean … yes. _Please,_ Tali," she begged. "I will make it up to you, I promise."

Tali sat in stunned silence for a few minutes, unable to decide what to say in response. "But if _Abba_ finds out, we will both be in trouble," the younger girl finally replied, running her fingers through her hair and tucking it behind her ear.

"No, I promise, little sister. I will tell him I lied to you, too. For all he will know, you thought I was really ill."

"You are crazy, Ziva!" she whispered, worried that, at any minute, their father could come down the hall and see them conspiring against him. It was one thing that Ziva was already on his bad side, she had much less to lose. But Tali was the favorite, and after having watched the way Eli looked at her older sister, she had to admit that Ziva had been right – he was much harsher with Ziva than he was with her. She didn't want to do anything to fall out of her father's favor, not after seeing how he treated Ziva.

"I will make it up to you," Ziva repeated, "Just tell me how."

A brief flash of recognition came to Tali then, and she realized that she could ask her sister to come out with her and these two boys she'd had her eyes on. She wanted to approach them, but she couldn't very well date both of them, could she?

"I know that look," Ziva chimed in before her sister could respond. "No boys." She was already involved, and she would not risk that even to appease her sister. A small voice in the back of her mind asked her just _when_ she'd started thinking of herself as _involved,_ but she pushed it away.

"No boys? But–"

Ziva interrupted her. "No boys," she said again, more firmly, noticing the confused look on her sister's face. Ziva smiled softly, promising, "I will tell you the reason tomorrow. But you will help me?"

Tali sighed, rolling her eyes. "Okay, fine. I will lie for you. But you really do owe me, and I will collect." She had no chance to say any more though, because Ziva jumped across the bed and tackled her little sister, giving her a huge bear hug, showering her with words of gratitude in every language she could think of.

"Okay, okay! Get off me!" Tali shrieked. "If you have to go, you must better get out of here, before they come back." She didn't say where their parents were, but it was nearing the time they'd usually come back for a short nap before dinner. Ziva looked at Tali questioningly, but Tali didn't respond. If Ziva had been around, she'd know their parents' schedule too. "But if you do not want them to noticing, you should … go soon," she added, stumbling over the language.

"Thanks, Tali," Ziva responded earnestly. She left her sister on the bed, crossing to the doorway, bending down to pick up her bag as she did so. She returned to her room and crossed to the bed, arranging the pillows so it appeared as though she was lying down in the bed. Once she was satisfied with her handiwork, which she recognized must _surely_ be the oldest sneaking out trick in the book, she went to the bedroom door, locked it, and then crossed back over to her go-to window in the corner, opening it up and sliding through.

Glancing around on either side, she made her way around the back of the guest house, making sure that no one was watching her. She shouldered her bag and made a run for the tree line, heading toward the path that would lead her to the dance studio, where Tony would be waiting for her.

* * *

Ziva's hands were shaking so much that she was having trouble putting on mascara.

She was looking in the mirror at her reflection, and almost didn't recognize her appearance. Mandy had pulled her hair back into a tight chignon before they'd left, one that left zero indication that her hair was naturally curly, and her face was covered in stage makeup, which included heavy eyeliner, a strong rouge against her cheekbones, and shockingly red lipstick.

Okay, she kinda _liked_ the lipstick.

She finally managed to put the mascara on, setting it back into her bag. Tony strode into the dressing room wearing a tight pair of dance pants and a black shirt that was unbuttoned to the navel, baring his chest. It matched her own costume, a black number with red trim on the bodice, and a long skirt with a slit up to the thigh, that was black on the outside and red underneath. It looked spectacular when she turned.

"Ready?" He asked, and her eyes met his in the mirror. Her lips were pursed tightly together, and her eyes appeared worried, not at all like the feisty Israeli he'd grown used to. He crossed the room and stood behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and kneading out the stress.

Not wanting to disturb her makeup, he leaned down and kissed her neck, and Ziva let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

"I am nervous," she admitted, catching his eyes in the mirror again. If this were any other thing, something for her father, perhaps, she wouldn't be, but this wasn't for her father. It was for Tony, and that made it more significant somehow.

Giving her shoulders a slight squeeze, he responded, "Don't be. We have practiced over and over. You know the routine. You know the music. You've got this."

Sighing again, she stood up, turning to face him. "It is your future at stake. How can you be so calm?"

"Because we have done all we can," he replied, and pulled her into a tight hug, kissing the top of her head. He pulled back slightly, holding her by the shoulders and looking down into her gaze, adding, "We just need to dance it one more time. You'll be fine. _We'll_ be fine."

Closing her eyes, Ziva took one more deep breath to calm her nerves, then started to chuckle against his chest. "What?" Tony asked, confused.

"This is _your_ thing, yet I am the one who is nervous," she said, a slight smile playing across her lips.

"I'm nervous, but not because of the dance. We know it. We've perfected it," he reassured her.

"Then…" she trailed off, stepping back and glancing in the mirror to make sure that she had not smudged her makeup.

"I'm nervous about the results," he said quietly, and a look of understanding washed over her. Of course, the _results_ , whether or not the company would want him, would make all the difference.

"When will you know?"

"A few days, normally, maybe a week," he said nonchalantly, and Ziva could tell that he was trying not to dwell on it. Now that _she_ thought about it, however, it was one more thing to be nervous about. "Don't you start worrying too, my ninja," he teased when he saw the look on her face, and she pursed her lips together, smiling inwardly. It was the first time he'd used a pet name other than _princess_ , and it somehow made her feel more powerful, like she wasn't just a helpless damsel, but a warrior, a fighter.

Before she could respond, he placed his hands on both of her shoulders and looked her straight in the eye, and said, "Trust me. The nerves become adrenaline, and it will be over before you know it. Just let the movement take over. I trust you."

Ziva nodded, a smile creeping across her face. Tony turned and reached into his bag, taking a look at the watch he'd taken off and put away. He didn't have to tell her what time it was – she knew. It was almost time, and they should head backstage. Closing her eyes momentarily, she visualized all of her nerves sitting on her shoulders, then shook them, hard, and watched all of them fall to the floor. She took a deep breath and then opened her eyes, and followed Tony out the door of the dressing room.

* * *

The judges were barely visible out in the audience, partially due to the bright lights shining on the stage and partially because of their placement several rows back. Ziva was grateful for this, for although they were not used to dancing in this particular venue, at least she wouldn't feel as though all eyes were on her throughout the dance.

She and Tony gave a slight bow to the judges before taking their places, hers several paces from him, and she took a deep breath and put her dance face on, striking her starting pose and getting into character. It was only a few moments later that the music started, and she stalked toward him, her eyes catching his, the intensity crackling between them. He took her hand and spun her into him, pulling her sharply into his arms, and they began their sequence of movement together.

Their feet moved together in a staccato rhythm, the tricky footwork executed with near perfection, Ziva's toes rapping on the ground before she would wrap her free leg around his, leaning toward him and back, kicking the leg out and spinning into a slight lift. She turned away from him and back into him, each spin falling precisely on the music, like the music had been made for this dance, and not the other way around.

Tony pulled her back to him, his eyes looking to devour her with his every movement. He dipped her and she arched her back, her free hand trailing with a flourish behind her head, his hand running from her waist up to her free arm, grasping it and pulling her back up toward him. He led them around the floor, both stepping in a syncopated rhythm, and they executed a partnered turn sequence that moved quickly in one direction and then reversed before Tony pulled her into the frame once more.

Finally, he released her and they performed the same steps, only a few feet apart, Ziva's steps with more of a feminine flair, and Tony's much more masculine and controlled, exhibiting his prowess, as was tradition for this style of dance.

Ziva executed a turn sequence that took her even further from him, and the music began to crescendo toward its climax. She took a quick prep step and then stepped quickly toward him and into his waiting arms, where he lifted her high above his head by the waist, her lower arm locked on his and her legs spread in arabesque. He spun her around one, two, three times, and then she cascaded down his arm where he caught her expertly, placing her down and spinning her back into his arms.

A few more turns around the floor with a quick footwork sequence, a less extravagant lift, and a spin into the ending pose, and they were finished, their chests heaving. They took their bows before the judges, their hands locked together as they exited the stage to the sound of, "Thank you!" being called out from somewhere in the audience.

The moment they stepped off the stage he gathered her into his arms and kissed her with abandon, all of his relief he felt at the fact that it was _finished_ and they'd _done_ it pouring out of him. She returned his embrace, kissing him hungrily, her heart still pounding with the adrenaline of the performance now behind them.

He pulled away, panting, a huge sigh of relief gushing out of him as he whispered, "Oh, I'm so glad that's over."

Ziva nodded vigorously, adding, "Yes. I am relieved. I did not miss any steps. You did not miss any steps. We were with the music, I kept my frame locked, you led me perfectly, we–"

"We need to go back to the dressing room so we don't disturb the next couple," he interrupted, and she agreed, letting him take her hand and lead her out from the wings and toward their room.

As soon as they closed the door behind them, Tony's arms encircled her waist, pulling her into him again. "We cannot here," Ziva gasped out between kisses, her skin beginning to tingle with the arousal that had become so familiar whenever Tony was near.

Tony growled as he squeezed her tighter, just an instant, before letting her go, saying, "I know. We should change and head back." _Before we're missed_ , were his unspoken words, and Ziva felt another thrill of excitement at being off of the resort property and out in the city with Tony. _Someday,_ she thought to herself, _we will come back and enjoy New York properly._

They changed quickly, and Tony waited a few minutes while Ziva took the makeup off of her face. It had worked for the persona, the ballroom dancer, but it wasn't quite her look. She felt much more comfortable without it.

"Ready?" Tony asked when she stood up, and Ziva nodded her response, gathering her bag and putting it on her shoulder. He put his hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the dressing room, and she put her arm around him as they walked, making their way out of the theater. They only had to walk a couple of blocks to reach Tony's car, a beat up old Mustang that had seen better days, and they enjoyed the walk arm-in-arm through the city in the warm summer air.

It wasn't long before they reached the car, and Tony unlocked the passenger door first, backing Ziva against the car and kissing her hungrily. Her arms almost involuntarily raised up to take his face in her hands, caressing his cheeks as she responded eagerly, pulling him closer to her and deepening the kiss with a savage moan.

Across the street, an older man who'd instantly recognized the daughter of Eli David watched with interest as she clung to an American man while they walked down the street and then began to make out against a car. The man's eyes narrowed, and he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Clicking into his contacts, he selected the name of his business associate, and put the phone to his ear, waiting for the answer.

* * *

 **Uh oh ... find out what happens next on Sunday! Again, I thank each and every one of my readers for their support of this story.  
**


	6. I Need You To See

**There is some adult content in this chapter. Consider yourself warned.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: I Need You to See**

* * *

The only sound Ziva heard as she walked silently back to the guest house from where Tony had dropped her off was the rhythmic chirping of crickets. The sound had soothed her the first time she'd heard them, but now they seemed only to exacerbate the pounding in her heart as she moved stealthily behind the house to the window she'd left open for herself.

Taking a few furtive peeks around, ensuring that again, no one was watching her, she slid the window open, lifting herself over the sill and sliding quietly inside. She was practiced at being light on her feet thanks to Tony's tutelage, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she slid the window shut behind her, peeking out at the moon through the window with a slight smile.

"Would you like to tell me why you are sneaking through windows in the middle of the night?"

She froze at the sound of her father's voice, vowing silently that she would murder her little sister. She turned slowly, seeing her father seated in the chair at the opposite corner of the room, now that her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light. "Abba," she cautiously spoke, unwilling to say another word.

"So this is what you have been doing, going off with this … _American?"_

Again, Ziva said nothing, more out of self-preservation than anything. What could Eli actually know, after all? She hadn't told Tali anything that she could have given away. "Do not act like you do not know what I am referring to, Ziva. Dr. Rivkin called me tonight. He observed you leaving a theatre in New York, acting quite cozy with the American dance teacher."

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she refused to even discuss how "cozy" she was with Tony, opting only to speak calmly about the audition. "I was only trying to help him, Papa. His dancing partner got injured because of me."

"And that makes it better, does it? You sully your name, your position, to run off with some American and what … _dance?"_ His voice was becoming louder, loud enough that Ziva was concerned that not only would her mother and Tali wake up, but the families in neighboring guest houses might, as well.

"What position?" She spat out the word as though it were poison. "The position as your successor? The position as your heir to some imaginary dynasty? Or the position as your _slave?"_ Ziva's eyes were alight with anger, and she couldn't help but raise her own voice in response to her father's accusations.

A light came on in the hallway outside her room, indicating that someone else had awakened. Before Eli could respond, Ziva added, "But you never cared to worry about what _I_ wanted, did you? I was never allowed to be my own person, was I?"

"You have always had a choice, Ziva," her father started, but Ziva cut him off.

"That is a lie, Abba!" She shouted through gritted teeth. "I have _never_ had a choice. Else you would not have started treating me like the prodigal son when I rejected Michael's proposal! You would have been glad to see me tied to your business associate, and it would not have mattered how the thought of him putting his hands on me made me want to retch!"

Eli's face turned a deep shade of red at her words, but Ziva didn't stop yelling, "Oh yes, Abba! You would have seen your daughter the victim, caught under the thumb of yet another man. No doubt Michael would have done whatever you asked of him, after all, he practically worships the ground you walk on. Would you have had him force himself on me, to provide you a _proper_ heir?" His eyes narrowed, and Ziva continued. "You would have, wouldn't you? I was born a woman, so I was not to ever be good enough for you, was I?"

"That is _enough,_ Ziva," her father shouted, standing and crossing the room so that he was right in front of her. If he had hoped to intimidate her with his stature, he failed. Ziva refused to back down, but only became more defiant. She was through letting her father push her around.

"I was not finished. But you are wrong, Abba. It is never quite _enough._ I have certainly had _enough_ of you controlling my life, but it hasn't been _enough_ for you. All I wanted from this summer was a little bit of fun. I am going into the medical field, _is that not enough for you?_ I have sacrificed for you, to make you happy, but it is _never_ enough." Tears started to line the inside of her eyes, threatening to spill over, but Ziva refused to give her father the satisfaction. Swallowing the lump in her throat and staring at him defiantly, Ziva pursed her lips together and waited for his response.

It came, a slap to the cheek that turned her head so forcefully she almost wasn't able to maintain her footing. Hatred flashed in her eyes before turning her head back to face her father, noting that nothing but anger remained on the face of a man she once idolized and once believed truly wanted what was best for her.

Rivka was standing in the doorway, and Ziva wondered just how much she had heard. Tali hovered behind her mother, unwilling to make her presence known, lest her father transfer some of the anger toward her. "Eli, please," Rivka said, her accent thickening in her sleepy state, but he ignored her, continuing to glare at his eldest daughter as though no one else was present.

Straightening up, Eli took one step back from Ziva, then gave one final directive. "Pack your belongings. We are leaving in the morning." Ziva's anger gave way to shock, and a flash of fear crossed her face before she remembered herself. _Tony._ What was she going to tell him?

Ziva didn't respond, but merely watched her father leave the room, turning and telling his wife and Tali to get back to bed.

There was no way she was just going to get in bed and take this lying down, and as soon as she was certain Eli was out of earshot, Ziva returned to the window and slipped back outside, not even bothering to shut the bedroom door – or the window, for that matter – behind her. She ran as fast as she could to the dance studio, bursting through the door, catching Tony wearing nothing but his boxers halfway up the stairs.

Tears were running down her face, and when Tony saw her, he immediately asked, "Ziva, what's wrong?" He reached out and put his hand to her cheek, wiping her tears with his thumb, and she leaned into his touch, soaking up the comfort it brought.

"My father – my father was waiting up for me when I arrived home. Remember I t-told you about Michael?" she choked out, between sobs, and watched as Tony nodded. "His father s-saw us outside the theater and called my f-father. He yelled at me, and accused me of 'sullying his name' and … and … I yelled back, I told him I had t-tried my whole life to please him, to be the perfect d-daughter to him, but it was never enough and he … he … he slapped me, and then said w-we are leaving t-tomorrow," she choked out after several minutes, then buried her head in her hands, her tears causing her body to shake.

Tony pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back, but mostly just held her, letting her cry out her frustration. He felt nothing but hatred for Ziva's father, who had seemingly done nothing but manipulate her by dangling his love in front of her like the proverbial carrot she would always be chasing.

The worst of Ziva's crying seemed to have subsided after a few minutes, and Tony ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing it down, and asked, "You okay?"

Ziva nodded as she pulled away, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. "I do not know how I am going to possibly say goodbye to you," she murmured, her lip trembling again at the thought. They'd only just found each other, only to be torn apart so quickly and unfairly.

"You'll be at school in New York. It's not _that_ far. And hey," he paused, lifting her chin up to meet his eyes, "if I get the job, I'll be right there with you. This isn't goodbye."

The smile that lit up her face was perhaps the most beautiful sight Tony had ever seen, especially after having seen her a sobbing mess just a few moments ago. "No. Not goodbye," she agreed, then added, "I like the way you think."

"God, Ziva, do you really think I could just let you walk out of my life forever?"

Her mouth opened slightly in surprise, and she gasped, "Tony," before stepping toward him and kissing him, a desperate, hungry kiss full of longing, and in one smooth motion Ziva found herself planted against the wall, Tony's hand freely roaming under her shirt to grope at her breasts, sending a shiver down her spine at the feel of his hands, his mouth, just _him_ all around her.

"You didn't wear a bra," he groaned, and she arched toward him, into his touch.

Gasping for breath as he leaned to kiss her neck, Ziva whispered "Tony, I–"

"Get your hands off of her, DiNozzo, and pack your belongings. Your employment has been terminated effective immediately." They broke apart abruptly, and there stood both Eli David and Leon Vandenberg, stone faces staring at the couple in front of them, both of whom stood defiantly before them. Ziva stood in front of Tony, and he instinctively put his hand on her waist.

"It was not enough that _we_ are leaving, you had to force him to, as well?" Ziva spat angrily at her father. Tony could feel her body tensing, but said nothing.

"You do not belong with his _kind,_ " Eli retorted just as shortly, and Tony squeezed her waist with his hand as a way of reminding her not to do anything rash, though his blood boiled at the way Eli looked at him like some sort of undesirable piece of trash.

"Miss David, he was warned at the beginning of this summer that his job would be in jeopardy if he disobeyed the rules." Vandenberg looked Tony squarely in the eye and added, "He has nobody to blame but himself." Ziva narrowed her eyes at the man, but otherwise ignored him. This friend of her father's seemed to have no tolerance for anything but people who followed his directives, just like Eli.

"His _kind?_ " She repeated her father's words, her voice elevating in anger. Again, Tony gave her a gentle squeeze at the waist, but she ignored him, continuing, "You are–"

Eli cut her off. "You would do well to watch yourself, Ziva. I have done nothing but the best I can for you, but you have defied me at every occasion. I do not expect a lot from you, only that you _obey._ "

"I have defied you only one other time, _abba._ And we have already spoken about that. You have decided my college for me, my profession, but you will not decide my love life." She stopped for a moment, drawing in a breath. "You wanted me to become a doctor, papa. It is not what I want, but at least I can help people. I tell myself that I can make the world better, that I can make people's lives better. But that is not what you care about, is it? You only care about people's _kind._ Am I only to treat people who meet your approval?" Eli stood emotionless before her, the room silent except for Ziva's voice.

"I cannot be that type of snob who can only associate with one type of person. What good is sending me to America if you do not wish for me to interact with and learn from Americans? And what good is being a doctor if the only person I can help is the rich Israeli elite with whom we have mingled, and no one else? How dare you, papa. You do not want what is best for me. You want what is best for _you._ "

"Ziva–" Eli began, but she cut him off.

"Just stop. You are not the man I thought you were when I was a little girl. I trusted you." She shook her head, fighting to keep her angry tears at bay. "No more. So we are leaving, and apparently, Tony must too? Fine. If we are both to leave, then I shall help him with his things." She turned to walk up the stairs, to Tony's room, ignoring her father when he called after her. Tony stood his ground for a second, glaring at both Eli and Vandenberg, before heading up the stairs himself.

He could hear the two old friends talking to one another quietly in the studio, but couldn't make out the words they were saying. There was a burst of easy laughter before Vandenberg yelled, "You have one hour, DiNozzo," and then the door slammed shut behind them. Tony flinched at the sound.

"I am sorry. For all of this." Ziva walked toward him, meeting him at the top of the stairwell.

"You don't have to be. None of this is your fault," he said, taking her hands in his and leaning to kiss her lightly before continuing, "and I know how hard it must have been to stand up to your father tonight."

"I do not want to talk about my father," she said flatly. "Not when I have so little time left with you."

"Remember what I said, Ziva. This isn't goodbye." She closed her eyes, encircling her hands around his waist and leaning into his chest, taking comfort in the sound of his heart pounding against her ear. She heaved an enormous sigh against him, turning her head and kissing his chest before pulling away.

"I will see you soon," she promised, then added, "now let me help you with your things."

Tony pulled Ziva toward him and tackled her onto the bed, attacking her neck with kisses before propping up on his arms and saying, "I can pack everything I brought with me in two minutes. That gives us," he looked at his watch, "about fifty-four minutes for other things."

Giggling, she turned to kiss his arm, then yanked his head down to join his lips with hers, kissing him tenderly. "What did you have in mind?"

"I think you know," came his response, his tone lowering seductively, sending a shiver down her spine. He leaned forward to kiss her neck, sucking lightly there, causing Ziva to cry out with pleasure. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, holding onto him as though she could burn the memory of his body into her hands.

Gasping at his repeated assault of her neck, she reached down to the hem of his boxers and started to push them downward, stopping when she could no longer reach from her position underneath him. "Take them _off,_ " she pleaded, and Tony finally pulled away from her, sliding the boxers down his legs and onto the floor, leaving him fully unclothed before her.

Settling back in, he reached for the hem of her shirt, inching it up and kissing her stomach, causing her to arch her back off the bed as he slid the garment up and off of her, exposing her chest.

Tony leaned back down to take her mouth in his, kissing her hungrily, practically devouring her with a loud groan. She kissed him back with equal fervor, her hands wrapped tightly around the nape of his neck, clinging to him for dear life. He pulled away for just a second with a strangled, " _Ziva,_ " before diving back in, kissing her hungrily, wanting nothing more than to stay – right here – and never leave the comfort of her arms again.

Slowly, he ran his hands down her body, lightly touching her skin with his fingertips, until he reached her shorts. He lifted up her hips so he could cup her ass in his hands, delighting in the way she gasped for breath at his touch. _God, I love that._ Everything about her drove him crazy, every touch, every taste, every time.

He reached his hands to the space between their bodies and unbuttoned her shorts, slowly lowering the zipper and then inching them down, pulling her panties with them, his lips kissing lightly down her legs as he bared them, causing her to giggle. "It _tickles,_ " she explained with another giggle, and he slid back up to take her mouth again, the lighter sensation forgotten as once again, Ziva was lost in kissing him.

He was hard and pressing against her stomach, and her arms slowly slid down his sides, wanting to touch him and _feel_ him and _have him,_ and she snaked her hand between their bodies, reaching to touch his member, causing him to gasp at the feel of her hand on him. "It always feels so good," he groaned, leaning up on his arms to give her better access.

"Lie down," she gasped, pushing him to the side and helping him settle on his back next to her, never missing a stroke as she rubbed him, her hand tight and hot against his throbbing cock. She alternated fast pumping with slowly twisting her hand around him, and she had worked him into a frenzy by the time he realized that she was scooting between his legs to take him in her mouth.

"Oh … _god …_ " he groaned as she tightened her lips around him, throwing his head back against the pillow and running his hand through his hair, gasping for breath as licked him from base to tip. She took him as deep as she could, pleasing him with long, slow strokes, her tongue darting out to lick him whenever her jaw got tired.

Slowly, she took him all the way into her mouth, her eyes darting up to meet his, and the feeling of her lips combined with how _hot_ it was caused him to jerk up involuntarily, his fingers digging into the bed as he tried to contain himself. She was killing him, he was certain of it, this sweet, slow, sensuous torture, and he didn't even care, because _what a way to go._

Ziva finally pulled away from him and slowly crawled her way back up his body, looking at him with a smirk in her eye. He was painfully hard now, dying to jump on top of her and fuck her senseless, but he would give as good as he got, and in one smooth motion, he wrapped his arm around her and twisted her so that she was now on her back, a surprised, " _Tony!"_ escaping from her lips.

He grinned, then headed south, determined to show her just how much he adored her, kissing sensuously down her hips, light, feathery kisses that caused her to arch upwards and toward his mouth. "Patience," he murmured against her skin, and she puffed out a frustrated breath.

"Payback, my ninja," he said, breathing against her moist center, and she trembled with anticipation. He darted his tongue out to lick her clit – barely – and she gasped in surprise, squirming beneath him. Looking at her mischievously, he ran his fingers lightly around her sensitive heat, circling an outer perimeter that kept him _so torturously close,_ but not quite where she wanted him.

" _Tony,"_ she gasped, dying to feel him, "I _need you,"_ she added. Every inch of her felt like it was on fire, smoldering at his touch, and all she wanted was to be torched by him again.

Finally, _finally,_ he slid his finger into her, and she leaned into his touch, desperate to feel him, grinding against his hand. He began to stroke her, his finger sliding in and out of her wet folds, each caress of his causing her to gasp with pleasure. Smirking, he leaned his head down, adding his tongue into the mix, tasting and teasing her, causing her to cry out as waves of pleasure hit her.

He licked her slowly, teasing her with his tongue as he worked her expertly with his hand, licking forward and back, then running slow circles around her clit, Ziva squirming and panting for breath, her nerves tingling with pleasure.

Groping for anything to ground herself, she found his free arm near her waist, taking his hand in hers and squeezing tightly as she threw her head back, screaming, _"Yes, Tony … YES!"_ as she began to quiver beneath his expert touch, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her body. Her legs began to shake as she lost herself in her orgasm, unexpected tears pooling at her eyes from the exertion of it all. He slowed his hand, withdrawing gently and sliding up beside her, pulling her into a slow, gentle kiss, feeling … everything, every emotion, every sensation, _everything_ … she poured her whole being into the kiss, telling him everything she couldn't with words, and when she pulled away, their foreheads touching and their eyes meeting, he felt as though her very essence was the only thing he would need for the rest of his life.

"Tony," she gasped quietly, "I need you. _Please."_ Leaning to kiss him again, she shifted so that she was perfectly beneath him, waiting for him to finally enter her, to make love to her, show him that she was his, _always._

Slowly, he slid forward, lining himself at her entrance, his arousal increasing as he felt how wet she was for him, how their lovemaking had only intensified his desire for her. "Please," she begged again, and he leaned forward, his forehead meeting hers, sliding into her slowly, letting her heat envelop him, groaning at how she felt as he entered her completely, feeling her – all of her – around him.

" _Yessssss,"_ she moaned, "oh god, _yes."_

" _Ziva,"_ he returned, and took her mouth with his, kissing her gently and thrusting slowly inside her, wanting it to build, _needing_ it to build, to make this last … _forever._ Long, slow strokes as he pushed himself both into and out of her, rolling his hips on top of hers, feeling her thrusting up to meet him, their bodies in perfect sync. Push and pull, _push_ and _pull,_ he drove himself into her over and over, never tiring of the sensation of _her,_ wanton and wanting below him.

"So good," she whispered against his lips before taking anew, tongues meeting and clashing together, their bodies became one, over and over again. Tony slid his hand up her body, reaching to grab her hand, clasping it tightly as he began to move more quickly, his need beginning to build. Sensing this, Ziva matched him thrust for thrust, crashing against him, a strangled moan passing from her lips at every deep drive. _I love him,_ she realized, tightening her grip on him, tears threatening to fall anew. With her free hand, she pulled his mouth back onto hers, kissing him fiercely, pouring her entire being into the embrace, pulling away frantically as he began to thrust even faster, screaming, " _Tony!"_ into the night.

"You're everything," he groaned, his thrusts almost at a frantic pace, his face tight with concentration as he pounded against her, their faces inches apart, their eyes on each other, mouths hanging open with gasps and moans as they joined bodies, joined hearts.

" _Oh!"_ Ziva cried, her pleasure finally overtaking her, her legs quivering fiercely around him as she began to tumble over the edge, her body shaking beneath him as she came, her skin glistening with sweat as she continued to meet him, needing that release, for both of them. A strangled groan tore from his lips as he too came, his body stiffening as his thrusting became more erratic, his orgasm pouring from him, his breath panting hot against hers as they crashed together, a mess of tangled limbs against twisted sheets.

 _I love you,_ she thought again, willing herself to say it … but the words didn't come, and she snuggled close to him, hoping that without saying the words, he would just know. Her heart swelled at the feeling of his arms around her, her breathing finally evening out against his chest, knowing that even if this night lasted forever, it would not be enough.

* * *

Vandenberg and Eli returned as scheduled, with a few of the more muscular male servers he'd woken up to act as security, to ensure that Tony left the premises without incident. He had no intention of trying to fight or otherwise weasel his way out of leaving the resort, but he made no comment and simply collected his final paycheck without a word.

Tony turned toward his car, where Ziva waited silently for him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Looking up at him with sadness in her eyes, she reached out and pulled him toward her, their lips crashing together in a final embrace. "Not goodbye," Tony whispered as he pulled apart, his forehead against hers and their lips still almost touching. Ziva ran her fingers through the hairs at the nape of Tony's neck, breathing unevenly as she tried to savor the feeling of his mouth against hers.

"Not goodbye," she returned, a slight smile turning up the corner of her mouth, and he kissed her again, another slow, scorching embrace that, even after their recent tryst in the bedroom, left her wanting to feel him all around her and inside her. _Never enough._

"I love you," she said, her voice loud and sure, her gaze steadily locked on his. "And I will never be sorry," she added, partially for her father's benefit. Tony recognized Ziva's defiant tone, but all he wanted was to scoop her up in his arms and carry her away, consequences be damned. To his great credit, Eli said nothing, but Tony was pretty sure that was because he'd gotten his way, in the end.

"Come with me," he whispered into her ear, and for a moment, she was tempted to do just that, but with her father and Vandenberg looking on intently with cronies standing by, she was certain there would be no hesitation before ordering Tony harmed, and there would be plenty of money exchanged in her father's favor to ensure that they'd get away with it.

Tony seemed to understand her line of thinking, and he resigned himself to kissing her one final time, a kiss full of all the longing and passion he could possibly muster. Ziva moaned into his mouth and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, kissing him until she felt like his lips would be imprinted on hers forever. After what seemed like no time at all, he was pulling away, and he gazed intently at her, holding just her hand as he slowly stepped backward, his fingers squeezing hers tightly as he returned, "I love you, too."

He let go of her hand then, and Ziva took that hand to her mouth and kissed it, savoring the feeling of the last place he had touched her as he got into his car. He started the engine before rolling down the window, then looked out the window, a hopeful grin on his face, before speeding away, kicking up dust in his wake.

Without a word, Ziva turned to walk back toward the guest house, meandering slowly along the dirt path that she had walked so many times on her way to and from the dance studio and Tony's embrace, and finally allowed the tears that had welled in her eyes to fall.

* * *

"Papa, please! There is still a month left of summer, and the party coming up this Saturday! Please, at least let us stay for the party," Tali begged at breakfast, her face stricken at the thought of leaving the lovely resort – and her sister – behind in America.

Ziva sat silently at the table, concentrating on the omelet in front of her. She didn't really care if they stayed or left now, either way, she was no longer on speaking terms with her father, and her mother wasn't too fond of her either, since she had lied. Rivka had always extolled honesty above all else, and Ziva had tried to apologize, but her mother would hear none of it, at least not for the moment. Rivka would forgive eventually.

Eli probably would not.

Tali was the only one who had spoken to her since the events of last night, for which Ziva was only marginally grateful. Her younger sister had no idea what had happened, but she seemed willing to let Ziva deal with it on her own, only saying, "You can talk to me, if you want to," earlier that morning while Ziva was brushing her hair. Ziva had only looked at her sister over her shoulder, a despondent look in her eyes, before returning to her hairbrush.

The omelet tasted like sawdust, if she was being honest, but then again, nothing about Vandenberg's or the remainder of the summer looked even remotely appetizing. Whether they stayed or not, it would still be a month before she would be free of her family, and a month before she would be able to see Tony freely again.

Returning her focus to the conversation at the table, Ziva was surprised to hear her father relenting to her sister's pleas. Then again, Tali was always the favorite, and Eli had never been able to deny her anything. Ziva almost wanted to hate her sister for it, but it had never been Tali's fault that their father was the way he was, and Tali was just as loving and compassionate as she had always been, despite their father's anger toward Ziva.

"I am finished," she announced, and without waiting for acknowledgement – that she doubted would have come anyway – she backed away from the table, the chair scraping loudly on the floor, and stood up, heading back to her bedroom. She found her headphones and her favorite music, and played it loudly, tuning out the world around her.

She'd come back to the room last night and packed up her belongings, as her father had directed her to. Now that they were officially still staying, however, she didn't really care to unpack everything again, and simply moved her bag from its spot on top of her bed to the floor, not caring when it made a loud _thump_ on the ground.

She grabbed her book before settling down on her bed, lying on her side with her legs crossed at the ankle. She'd hardly touched the book in the last several weeks, but when she started to read, she found her mind wandering.

 _Tony._

She sighed, replacing the bookmark and tossing the book aside. Covering her head in her hands, she muttered, "It is no use," under her breath. She wanted nothing more than to go to him, but he was no longer at the resort, and even if she knew where he was, she didn't have any way to get there.

A shadow began to creep over her, and when Ziva turned to look in its direction, she noticed Tali trying to get her attention. "You are going to hurt your ears," Tali admonished, her voice quiet and tentative.

"At least I do not have to listen to your father talking about how much of a disappointment I am," she countered, her shoulders shrugging slightly, a smirk beginning to form. If Tali noticed that Ziva had said _your_ instead of _our_ when referring to their father, she didn't show it.

"Do you want to talk?" Tali was only trying to help, Ziva knew, but she just wasn't ready to discuss what happened, even with someone who would finally lend an understanding ear instead of a judgmental one.

Ziva shook her head. "No, I do not." Tali bit her lip awkwardly, wondering what she could say to cheer her sister up. A low rumble sounded in the distance, and Tali looked toward the window, wondering if it might rain. Tali was only trying to help, but she wasn't ready to talk about it yet. "Not yet, Tali."

"The party is in a few days. There is a shopping center – a gift shop, I think it is called – where we can buy something nice to wear. I will help you pick something. And we can do each other's hair! Like we used to," Tali offered, her smile hesitant but hopeful.

"I do not really wish to go to the party," Ziva muttered, recalling that Tony had wanted to take her as his date. His _date._

"Do you think _abba_ will let you stay here while we go?" Ziva scowled at the implication that her father would let – or not let – her do anything. But she had resolved not to fight with him again, opting for the path of least resistance in order to just get through the summer and get out from under his influence once she began school in the fall.

Ziva smiled halfheartedly at her sister, grateful that at least one person was still trying to be on her side. "I suppose a new dress would be nice," she responded, and Tali's tentative smile grew to a wide grin. Tali threw her arms around her sister's neck, giving her a tight hug.

"Just let me get my shoes, okay? We can go in five minutes," Tali said excitedly. Ziva's heart wasn't really in shopping today, but it would do her no good to lie around and mope, and if her sister wanted to cheer her up, there was no point in not letting her at least _try_.

Sliding off the bed, Ziva walked over to where she'd last put her shoes and slid them on her feet. She glanced at the mirror briefly, assessing that she looked "good enough," and then waited at the doorway for Tali. Ziva heard another low rumbling in the distance and heard the wind pick up outside, then walked to the sliding door and peeked outside. The sky was an ominous shade of gray, and as soon as Tali came back to her room, the skies opened up.

"I do not think we should go shopping today," Ziva supplied, shocking herself by feeling a slight twinge of disappointment.

"No, I suppose not," Tali returned, slumping slightly. "Well, let us just practice hairstyles, okay? Then we will know how we want to look on Saturday night." Tali was endlessly cheery, a stark contrast to her own darkened mood, but Ziva let her sister prattle on as she ran back to her bedroom to grab a heaping bag full of hair products and styling tools, returning to Ziva's room and settling it on the bed, a few tubes of something Ziva didn't recognize plopping out and landing on her bed.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" she exclaimed, then ran out of the room again. Ziva waited for her sister to run back again, amused at her constant state of motion. When Tali returned, she was holding a handful of fashion magazines, some in English and some in Hebrew, which she set down on the bed and began to thumb through.

"I am guessing there are some styles you would like to try in those?" Ziva asked, smiling slightly. Maybe Tali _could_ cheer her up, at least a little. She would miss her little sister, she realized with a pang. Always trying to be helpful, always trying to be diplomatic. She hoped, no matter what happened, that she and Tali could always be friends.

Tali nodded as a response to her question, and began to launch into a long monologue about the virtues of different styles and their different types of hair. Ziva tried not to, but she tuned her out, looking out the window at the rain, wondering where Tony was, and if he was missing her as much as she was missing him.

* * *

Ziva had to admit that she looked great, thanks to her sister's styling and fashion advice, and the new dress had really boosted her spirits. She hadn't brought any heels with her and Tali's extra pairs wouldn't fit, so she'd opted to wear her dance shoes and hoped no one would be able to tell the difference.

She and Tali had chosen a simple white A-line dress with spaghetti straps that had a simple blue trim at the hem. The skirt was fuller than Ziva was used to, but she liked the way it flattered her slim figure, accentuating her waistline. Tali had also styled her hair so that it cascaded to one side of her head, pinned in place with a clip that had a white rose on it. Ziva had protested, but when she looked in the mirror, she was actually pleased with how it looked, flower and all.

The party was not that bad, either, considering the fact that she was with her family and not Tony. News of his termination had surely spread by now, and people kept glancing her way, acting embarrassed when she caught them staring at her.

Ziva didn't want to mingle too much, but she caught sight of Tim and walked over to him, her sister in tow. She greeted him and introduced him to Tali, who didn't try to pry into how she knew Tim. Ziva noticed her sister's eyes light up as she caught someone's eye, and Tali excused herself and quickly ran off toward some guy named Daniel, whom she had apparently promised to meet up with.

"Sorry about Tony," Tim said awkwardly, not knowing how to broach the subject. Ziva didn't reply, only nodded slightly, indicating that she didn't want to talk about his abrupt departure. "I told you this was a great party, right?" They walked toward a table in the back of the room, noting that Mandy was seated alone, her leg propped up on a table. Ziva suspected that Mandy would be annoyed not only that she couldn't dance yet, but also that Tony was gone.

Grateful for the change in subject, Ziva smiled. Tim was a genuinely nice person and she wanted to remain friends with him in the future. "It really is. I am glad we came tonight, even though I wish circumstances were different."

"Well, you'll see him soon, right?" He supplied, then cringed at having brought up the subject again. They reached the table where Mandy sat, and she sat down, smiling at the other dancer. Ziva glanced over her shoulder, surprised to see that her father hadn't paid her any attention since she'd gotten up. _So it is okay to mingle with the wrong_ kind, _as long as I am no longer your daughter, right?_ She felt her anger rising, but refused to allow it to overtake her. This was a party, and she was supposed to be having fun.

"How did it go the other night? I haven't spoken to Tony since he …" Mandy trailed off. She didn't seem angry, but Ziva still didn't wish to start anything, and resolved to broach the subject gingerly, if it came up at all.

"It went _really_ well. I … I was very nervous, but once we got on the stage and started dancing, it was … it was great," she replied, pleased that at least one thing had gone right lately.

"What happened, anyway? I thought you were an expert sneak, a regular ninja, as Tony calls you," She blushed at the nickname, surprised that Tony had talked about her to anyone, least of all Mandy, who didn't seem to like her all that much.

"My father apparently has ears and eyes everywhere. We were seen … kissing … in New York," she said, her face turning redder. She didn't know how much Mandy knew.

"So he was fired because of you, and not because of the audition?" she said, seemingly angry. _Oh, no,_ Ziva thought, feeling dread rise up in her throat like bile.

"Well…" she trailed off.

"Don't sweat it, princess. The way he talks about you, well, he'd say it was worth it. Right, Tim?"

"I – uh … yeah, I mean, he only … he only mentioned you a – a few times, but you should have seen his face light up," Tim supplied, and Ziva's worry turned into a grin, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Thank you," she said simply, beaming. They sat together in silence for a few moments, Ziva sitting and picking at her fingernail awkwardly, Tim taking a sip of his water, and Mandy fussing with the cast on her leg.

"Everything will work out," Tim supplied after several minutes, and Ziva nodded.

"Maybe," she replied. She didn't know what else to say. She wasn't sure what her future held anymore, her vision of attending medical school slowly starting to drift further and further away from reality. As long as she and Tony found each other again, she supposed it didn't really matter what else she did.

"Well, hey, um … good luck in … school," Tim stammered, and Mandy raised her glass toward her, as if to agree with what Tim had said. She'd really come around, and Ziva was glad that Mandy didn't hold it against her for being part of the reason Tony has been fired. Well, _entirely_ the reason, since they never would have danced together if she hadn't broken Mandy's leg in the first place.

"Yes, and thank you, Tim." She realized she probably wouldn't see that much of him for the rest of the summer, considering he was one of the servers at the main restaurant and her family almost always ate in their guest house. She stood up and gave him a quick half-hug, then reached over and shook Mandy's hand. "And thank you, too, for helping us with the dance. If Tony is accepted, you will have had a part in it, too."

"All you, princess," the blonde smirked.

"And I know you … kind of hate it here," she began, her heart pounding in her chest. What was she doing? It wasn't her place. "You'll be okay?"

Mandy laughed loudly, her head falling back as she did so. "I'm _fine,_ really. I got me a fancy desk job now that I can barely walk. Treats me better up there, too. I don't know what Tony did to piss him off, but suddenly now that I'm no longer associated with him, I'm okay."

She'd have to ask Tony about that later, sometime. "Well, thank you, again, and keep in touch?" she looked at Tim, who reached into his pocket and wrote down an address, handing it to her. She leaned down to give him another hug, then headed back toward her family's table, deciding that she'd better not press her luck this evening.

She returned to her table just in time to hear the clinking on a glass, signaling a toast. She sat back down, looking toward the sound.

Vandenberg stood at the front of the room where the band was set up, and he waited a few moments for everyone to settle down. "I want to thank all of you for coming out tonight, and this summer. We're having a wonderful season, and I always enjoy this party the most, because we all know we don't have to go back to our lives just yet." A chorus of gentle laughter broke out.

"I am glad to see so many new faces here amidst some of the familiar ones, and please know that you are all welcome as a treasured guest of Vandenberg's Mountain Resort this and every summer, and–"

Ziva heard some noise coming from the back of the room, but didn't turn around, not really all that concerned with whatever ruckus was occurring behind her. Vandenberg didn't seem to notice, and continued to amble on about the wonderful summer and his beautiful guests and whatever other patronizing crap he could shove down people's throats to keep people coming back and spending money. Glancing down at her plate, she began to pick at the remainder of her dessert, a slice of chocolate peanut butter pie that was deliciously rich in flavor.

The commotion that started toward the back seemed to be growing louder, but Vandenberg kept talking over it, and Ziva looked up as a shadow loomed over her plate, only to see Tony standing in front of her, reaching his hand out to pull her out of her seat. She gasped, her shocked face slowly turning up into a smile.

"You–" Eli started, but Rivka placed her hand across his chest.

"Do not start a scene, Eli," she said in her thick accent. "We can deal with it later."

Ziva took Tony's hand without hesitation and followed him up to the front of the room, where Vandenberg finally noticed what the disturbance had been all about and stopped speaking. The room was silent again, expectantly awaiting the confrontation that was bound to come.

"What are you doing on my resort?" Vandenberg snarled, looking around for anyone who was willing to play security and escort Tony off the premises.

Before he could locate anyone, Ziva stood in front of him and declared, "He is my date." Ziva noticed her father start to stand up, but her mother again forced him to sit down. Eli signaled to Vandenberg, who crossed the room to try to settle the matter with his old friend.

Tony finally spoke up. "I just came back here tonight because I needed to clear the air a bit, in light of what this guy," he motioned at Vandenberg, "has been saying about me. Yeah, I was fired. Because I was carrying on with this woman here, Ziva," he squeezed her hand, "who not only stood up for what's right, but helped me achieve my dream."

Ziva's jaw dropped in surprise as she turned her head, looking over her shoulder at him and cried, "You got it?"

"I got it," he confirmed, beaming, and pulled her into a strong hug where he felt her sigh with relief against his chest. Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes, but for an entirely different reason than those of the past few days. Tony pulled away and turned to the leader of the band, asking him to play a song. The guy nodded, then conferred with his bandmates. Rivka was still acting as diplomat with Eli and Leon, and Ziva noticed that Tali had returned to the table to help keep Eli at bay, as well.

They were still locked in an argument when Ziva looked at Tony uncertainly, wondering what he was up to. "Ready to dance?" he asked, and she nodded, moving to the other side of the dance floor to strike her pose. The band began to play the song, and Ziva put on her sultry predator face and stalked toward him and into the dance, prompting cheers from the crowd as they moved together in sync. Leon, Eli, Rivka, and Tali stopped, watching the pair alongside the rest of the room.

She felt free, for the first time since they'd held each other after the audition. She had no worries, nothing but the movement, and her eyes were smiling as they gazed into Tony's. She surrendered to the dance and the way she felt in his arms. She spun away from him and back into him, kicking her feet the way they'd rehearsed for weeks, but yet, it was different, electric. He picked her up and spun her around in the lift they'd called the "easy" one, and she threw her head back and laughed with joy.

They worked their footwork sequences and turned some more, traveling the length of the floor and igniting the room with their passion. Finally, they came to the hardest lift, and Tony lifted her up in the air, turning once, twice, and three times to a great roar from the crowd before settling her down again, letting her twirl out of the lift and back into his arms for the final footwork sequence of the dance.

Ziva executed the closing turn sequence with near perfection, the wide grin on her face mirroring only Tony's. They finally finished the dance, landing in their finishing pose, to thunderous applause from the people in the resort, and when they stepped away from their final pose, Tony pulled Ziva into a passionate embrace, breaking apart with laughter at the sound of whistles and catcalling from the crowd.

Ziva caught sight of her family at the table, noting Eli and Vandenberg looking murderous, and Rivka trying fairly unsuccessfully to hold Eli back. Ziva then caught Tali's eye and smiled at her as Tony grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him, running through the crowded tables and toward the door, Ziva's laughter echoing behind her as they left the room. She figured Eli would be hot on their heels, but she didn't care, just kept laughing gleefully behind Tony.

They finally reached the doorway to the building and ran outside, where Tony's car was parked and waiting for them. He unlocked her door first, and just as she was opening the car to get inside, Tali caught up with them outside, shouting, "Ziva!"

"Tali," she said, panicking at the thought that Eli could be right behind her.

"It is okay, Ziva, just promise me that you will write to me!" She ran over to her sister, and Ziva closed the distance between them, gathering her into a tight hug, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Always, Tali, always. I love you, little sister," she said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"I love you too, big sister," she replied, watching as Ziva jumped into the car, which Tony had already started and put into gear. He sped off just as Eli and Leon appeared at the entrance to the building, kicking up dust in his wake, Tali waving happily behind them.

"Go to the house, please – I need to do something," she said, and Tony turned toward the guest house. She had decided to pick up her bag, but also, to leave a note for her father, which she started writing as Tony drove quickly along the winding path. They reached the guest house quickly, and Ziva ran into the house, picking up her belongings, throwing the bag over her shoulder, and dropping the letter to her father neatly on his pillow, where he would find it.

She ran back out, throwing her bag into the backseat of Tony's car. She didn't bother to lock the door of the guesthouse, only threw her key behind her before jumping back into the passenger seat, leaning over to kiss Tony passionately – but briefly, as he put the car back in gear and sped away, surely leaving a mark behind him as the tires squealed into motion.

"What was that note?" he asked as they sped toward the exit, the wind from the open windows blowing her hair wildly behind her.

"Only to tell my father that he only has one daughter now, and that I will not be attending medical school in the fall," she responded, a smile spreading across her face.

"What are you going to do then?"

She shrugged, scooting toward him and leaning her head on his shoulder. "I do not know. I will figure it out. Just take me away from here, Tony, and let us not worry about it right now." He glanced down at her with a smile, his heart swelling at the sight of her leaning against him, where, he now realized, she belonged.

It didn't matter where they were going. The resort exit passed behind them, and the crickets chirped loudly as the car's engine revved into the night. It didn't matter if she didn't go to med school, or if her father came looking for her. They were together, and as they sped past a sign that read "New York: 202 miles," Ziva decided that "together" was all that mattered.

* * *

 **I would like to thank all of you for coming along on this journey with me. There will be an epilogue to this story, and it will be going up on Wednesday. I hope you have enjoyed this story as much as I have.**


	7. This Love Was Meant to Be

**Epilogue: This Love Was Meant to Be**

* * *

 _Fifteen Years Later_

"Alana, would you please find out what is taking your brother and sister so long?" Ziva addressed her oldest child, who had recently hit her moody teenage years and much preferred to spend her days wrapped in her phone than with her _family._

"Andy, Ava, _hurry up_!" The teenager shouted up the stairs, instantly putting her earbuds back in and going to sit down on the sofa. Ziva sighed, exasperated, and finished putting her earring in before taking the stairs herself in search of their other two children, who were, as usual, taking absolutely forever to get ready.

They were getting ready to head to Tony's dance studio, where his colleagues were throwing him a retirement party. Tony had gone early to help set everything up, leaving Ziva to get the kids ready and meet him there. It had been a very successful career for him since starting with the company all those years ago, but unfortunately, dancing was not a long-term endeavor, and Tony was much older than most dancers.

He often joked that he was having a lot of trouble keeping up on the floor now, although Ziva knew that he would miss it terribly. He'd done extremely well competing internationally, and although he wouldn't need to, Tony was staying on as a teacher and choreographer while retiring from the competition scene. He just wasn't ready to let it go completely. Not yet. Probably not ever.

Peeking into Andy's room, Ziva noted the ten-year old crouched down on the ground, playing with his tablet. "Andrew DiNozzo," she warned sternly, and his head snapped up from his game, "We are going to be late. Put that game away and get downstairs."

"Just one more level," he complained, and Ziva reached over and took the tablet from him. "Mom!"

"You can play later. Now where is your sister?"

"I dunno, I heard her yelling about something downstairs," the child shrugged, annoyed at having lost his progress in his game.

"Your _other_ sister," Ziva responded with a sigh. Andy was his father's son, with the same rugged features and the same smartass mouth.

He shrugged again, and before Ziva could say another word, he ran past her and down the stairs, where she could hear him as he sat down next to Alana and started hassling her, asking, "Who you texting? Who you texting?" which resulted in a chorus of annoyed rebuffs from his older sister.

Shaking her head, Ziva made her way to Ava's room, finding that their youngest child was not there. "Ava?" she called, hearing only silence. _Damn it,_ she thought to herself, _this is not the time to be playing hide and seek._ She peeked her head into the bathroom, finding that the girl was not in there, either. " _Ava,_ " she warned, more sternly, but heard no response.

She peeked her head into Alana's room, finding that Ava was not in there, either. _At least Alana will not freak out at her sister playing around in there,_ she thought, then walked down the hallway and into the bedroom she shared with Tony. "Ava," she called again, and she heard the water in their en-suite bathroom run for just a second before turning off, her eyes narrowing as she rounded the corner and caught Ava in the bathroom, lipstick all over her face.

"I'm pretty, mama!" she cried triumphantly, and it took all of Ziva's restraint not to bury her head in her hands.

"You are extremely pretty, little lamb, but let me just fix that up a little, okay? Then you will be the prettiest, by far." She gathered the six year old in her arms, lifting her up and sitting her on the counter just beside the sink.

"Nuh-uh, mommy, you are the prettiest!" she giggled, handing Ziva the lipstick she had been playing with. Ziva tousled her daughter's hair, planting a kiss on the crown of her head, and then crouched down, grabbing a wet wipe and working on erasing the errant lipstick marks on her daughter's face. She would let her keep some on her lips, but the marks on her cheeks had to go.

"Mom! Aunt Tali and Uncle Seth are here!" Andy's voice bellowed from downstairs, and Ziva groaned inwardly. _We are going to be late._

She leaned her head out of the bathroom, one hand holding Ava on the sink so she wouldn't fall, and shouted, "We'll be down in a minute!" She crouched back down and finished wiping the lipstick marks off of her daughter's face, then dabbed at her lips, so as to lighten the color a little bit. There was no need for her six year old to walk into a party with bright red lips, after all.

Ziva lifted Ava off the counter and set her down, giving her a little push and saying, "Run downstairs and see your aunt and uncle, sweetheart, and I'll be down in a minute, okay?"

"'kay!" the little girl shrieked, running forward and out of the room, shouting for her aunt the entire way.

Ziva took one final glance in the mirror, satisfied that she was ready to go and turning the light off before heading out of the room, running down the stairs to greet her sister and brother-in-law.

* * *

" _May I have this dance?" Tony said dashingly, holding out his hand with an exaggerated flair._

 _Putting her hand in his and standing up, Ziva let Tony sweep her into his arms, but not without protesting, "I do not know … among all of these professional dancers? I am sure to look rather amateur," with a teasing smirk._

" _You don't give yourself enough credit," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her lightly on the neck. Ziva shivered, leaning into the embrace as he led her in a simple waltz, allowing some of the other dancers in the room to show off their moves. Tony only wanted to show off Ziva._

 _The company held this fundraiser gala every September, and all of the dancers, their significant others, and several benefactors came every year to enjoy some great food, an auction, and – naturally – plenty of dancing. Tony had introduced Ziva to his new dance partner, a petite woman from Argentina named Mari, and as per tradition, she'd had to steal Tony away for just one dance, a simple exhibition number the entire company took part in, to rather thunderous applause._

 _After that, however, Tony had had eyes only for Ziva, with whom he'd been living for the past few months since leaving Vandenberg's. Eli had made no attempt to find her, and Ziva had found a job as a secretary for the time being, deciding to take a bit of time and decide what it was she wanted to do with her life._

 _Tony's arm tightened around Ziva's back as he spun her around the floor, and she laughed at the way he sang along with the music. "I have to tell you something," she said with a smile, and he raised his eyebrow with a smirk._

" _That's funny, because I have something for you, too," came the response, and she cocked her head to the side._

" _You first," she said, but he shook his head._

" _No, you. I insist."_

 _Glancing around momentarily, unsure if she wanted to be overheard when she told him, she leaned forward and said quietly into his ear, "Tony, I am pregnant." His arms left the traditional dancing frame and wrapped tightly around her, pulling her into a tight hug and spinning her around. He could not have been more thrilled._

 _He set her down and stepped away for a moment, running a hand through his hair. "I … wow," he began, a huge grin spreading across his face, mirroring Ziva's, adding, "That's incredible!"_

" _Your turn," she prodded as she felt his hand graze her stomach ever so slightly, his face beaming in awe. "You had something to tell me?"_

" _More like_ ask," _he countered, then knelt down in front of her, holding out a tiny diamond ring. Ziva looked down at the ring, and then at his face, and then back at the ring._

" _Tony," she gasped, her hands finding her face as some of the other people in attendance stopped to look at the scene before them._

" _Ziva … marry me?" Hopeful eyes stared up at her, the ring still pinched between his thumb and forefinger. She held her left hand out, and allowed him to slide it on her finger._

" _Yes!" she cried, then pulled him up off the ground and into her arms, kissing him hungrily, paying no attention to the sounds of the crowd cheering around them._

* * *

Despite Ziva's worry, they were not late to the party, and arrived at just five minutes before five, when the party was scheduled to start. Tony greeted them as they arrived, leaning in to kiss Ziva and whisper in her ear, "You look _stunning."_

Nearly fifteen years of marriage, and he still made her blush like a schoolgirl.

People would start arriving soon, though, so Tony told the kids to go sit down at the table with their aunt and uncle while Tony and Ziva waited near the entrance to greet guests, thanking them all for coming and joking about memories they'd shared at various points in their lives. Tony and Ziva stood side by side, their arms circling around each other at regular intervals, only breaking apart to give hugs to incoming guests.

Tim arrived with his wife, Delilah, who was very pregnant with their first child. "It's a boy!" she cried, as she gave Tim a squeeze, and Tony clapped him on the shoulder in congratulations. Tony and Ziva had attended the wedding a few years ago, but they hadn't seen each other in a few months, and it was wonderful to see that he was so happy.

"Wow, your kids have grown up so much," Tim remarked, leaning forward to give Ziva a hug. "How old are they now?"

"Alana is fourteen now, she starts high school in the fall. Can you believe it?" She said, a smile on her face as she shook her head, incredulously. Time had flown. "Andy is ten, and Ava is six." Ziva pulled out her phone and found a photograph, turning it to face Tim. "She just graduated from Kindergarten. Look at her proud face!"

Motherhood suited Ziva, and Tim smiled at how happy the DiNozzo family was. They'd gotten married only a few months after running off from Vandenberg's, and they'd wasted no time starting their family. Tony deserved this happiness, after having worked so long at the resort. He didn't know all of Ziva's history, but no doubt, she deserved her bit of happiness, as well. They suited each other.

Tim leaned in to hug Ziva, giving her a tight squeeze and trying to stop his eyes from welling up with tears. "Shall we?" he asked his wife, indicating that they should go and find a place to sit down. She nodded, and they worked their way through the growing crowd, stopping along the way to talk to other mutual acquaintances.

"I didn't know he had it in him," Tony joked after Tim and Delilah walked away, and Ziva smacked him lightly on the arm.

"Behave," she teased, a glint in her eye as she looked at him with a smirk on her face.

He wiggled his head, feigning offense, but said, "Okay," in a mock sarcastic tone. _What a dork,_ she thought, then leaned in to kiss him. _But at least he's_ my _dork._

"I am going to get another drink, would you like one?" she asked, taking the final sip of her champagne and setting the glass down on the table behind her.

"Please," he replied, and leaned over, kissing her lightly on the mouth as she stepped away and toward the bar. She navigated through the people and tables in the way, checked on the kids, and then grabbed another two drinks to bring back to where Tony was undoubtedly chatting with more incoming guests.

Settling back in beside him and handing him his drink, turning to give him another short kiss, she noticed who Tony was talking to.

"Hello, Mandy," Ziva said with a smile, leaning in to hug her, and then leaning to hug her long-time girlfriend, Bev. "It is so good to see you both."

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" Mandy replied, adding, "Your husband likes to keep busy, that's for sure."

"Well, I should have a little more time to hang out now, seeing as this is my _retirement party,_ " he joked, and Mandy reached out to give him a light punch.

Catching the sight of something glinting on her hand, Ziva caught Mandy by the arm and held it up, looking at Mandy, then to Bev, and back to Mandy again, asking, "Is that what I think it is?"

"It is," Mandy confirmed, beaming.

"We're finally getting married," added Bev, wrapping her arm around Mandy with a smile.

"When were you going to tell _me?_ " asked Tony, raising his hands from his sides and feigning offense. Mandy narrowed her eyes at him, and Ziva looked at him incredulously.

"Did she not just say that you are always busy?"

"Okay, okay," he said, a huge grin spreading on his face. He pulled Mandy into a tight hug, saying "Congratulations, Mand."

"Do you have a date?" Ziva asked the pair, and Bev shook her head as Mandy stepped back from Tony.

"Not yet," Bev began, "but we'll let you know, of course."

"I am so happy for you both," Ziva responded, a huge smile spreading across her face. Ziva and Mandy had become friends not long after she'd run off with Tony all those years ago, and Mandy had let go of all of her resentment toward Ziva for the broken leg. She'd explained that she was worried about Tony and initially blamed Ziva for ruining his chance at success, but once the audition had gone well and Tony had been offered the job, Mandy forgave Ziva for everything.

Mandy was practically Tony's little sister, one who had always wanted what was best for him, and she quickly realized that Ziva was, in fact, best for him.

It seemed as though there were not many more people to greet at the entrance, and Tony put his hand at the small of Ziva's back to lead her to their table, where any latecomers could find them. It was nearly time for the catering service to bring out dinner, and Tony caught sight of Tim's eye and pointed toward the kitchen, earning him an eye roll from across the room. "Stop it," Ziva admonished him, but she hid a slight smile behind her hand as she sat down at their table.

Ziva's eyes fell to an empty seat next to Tali's, where Rivka would have been seated, if she had not passed away suddenly nearly three months ago. It would have been her first trip back to the United States after that summer at Vandenberg's, and she had been excited to meet her grandchildren and see her daughter after so many years. Ziva's heart felt heavy, wishing she could have seen her mother one last time. Ziva had flown overseas and gone to the service, disguising herself by wearing a headscarf and sunglasses, but she couldn't grieve openly, the way she had wanted to, nor could she reach out to her sister for support. It had been hard, but Ziva refused to stay away despite the risk of her father seeing her and creating a scene.

Once Eli eventually passed, Ziva had decided, she would not even attempt to attend his funeral. Some wounds would never close.

Maintaining the relationship with her mother hadn't been easy, not with Eli's directive that Ziva be cut off entirely. Tali had had to write to her in secret, using a friend's address in order to receive her letters, and Eli had kept an eye on their phone records until Tali had moved out, as well. _Stubborn old mule,_ Ziva thought, trying not to dwell on her anger, which, at this point, came and went rather infrequently. But Tali had refused to be deterred, sneaking around behind Eli's back to maintain their relationship and to help Rivka write to Ziva, for which Ziva would always be grateful. Still, losing her mother so suddenly hurt, and she would always be angry at her father for making it so she would never see Rivka again.

Tony noted his wife's quiet gaze and leaned over, wrapping his arm around her waist. "You okay?" he asked quietly, so as not to draw attention to themselves.

"I am fine, Tony," she responded earnestly, and resolved not to let her sadness about her mother cloud the occasion. There would be other days more suited for grief and sadness, but not today. As the servers made their way around the room, setting down dishes for people to enjoy, she turned to Tony and gave him a kiss, leaning her forehead against his and adding, "I love you."

Sensing that Ziva wasn't entirely _fine_ but choosing to let it go, he gave her shoulder a squeeze before letting go of her, responding, "I love you too," before picking up his knife and cutting the meat on his plate.

* * *

" _Ziva DiNozzo," the voice boomed over the speaker system, and Ziva stepped across the stage to where the Dean was waiting with a handshake and a "diploma." The real one would probably arrive in the mail in a few weeks._

" _Ma-ma-ma-MOMMY!" Alana shrieked from the crowd, resulting in laughter from the various people in attendance, and Ziva turned to find the five-year-old standing on her father's lap and blew a kiss in their direction. There would be time for celebration later, but there were several other graduates to walk yet._

 _Stepping down off the stage, she followed the others who had come before her, stopping to have a photograph taken – one that would, undoubtedly, be ridiculously expensive to purchase – and then found her way back to her seat, tuning out the sounds of other names being called, to varied cheers from the audience._

 _She'd finally done it, after taking over a year to soul-search and figure out what it was she wanted to do, and Tony had supported her every step of the way, even as they juggled school, work, Alana, and later, Andy, who was nearing his first birthday. She'd had to take an exam three days after he was born, but it had been worth it now, to hear her name called as she walked across the stage._

 _Ziva flipped through the program again, locating her major – Women's Studies – and found her name, printed right there in black and white. Now that she had her degree, she could work as a Victim's Advocate and help women suffering from domestic and sexual abuse. Once she'd realized that standing up to her father had been her first step toward empowerment, it had been an easy decision to help other women achieve that for themselves. She couldn't wait to make a difference in the lives of women and young girls, and the shelter she'd worked at during her internship had already offered her a full-time position._

 _The other graduates around her stood up, and she followed suit, realizing that she had zoned out for all of the ending part of the ceremony. As "Pomp and Circumstance" began to play, she followed the procession out of the theater, smiling as she watched people in front of her throwing their graduation caps in the air, hugging each other, and carrying on in celebration. She suspected many of the younger students would have quite the party._

" _Mommy!" a little voice called, and almost without warning, two chubby hands circled around her. Ziva leaned down and picked Alana up with an "oof," causing the girl to giggle. Tony was not far behind, walking slowly with Andy fast asleep on his shoulder._

" _Congratulations, graduate," he smiled, slowly stepping toward her and taking her into his arms, careful not to jostle Andy awake. Brushing the tassel of her graduation cap out of the way, he kissed her on the cheek._

 _She blushed, although no one was paying her – or her family – any mind. Many other graduates were celebrating with their families, as well. "Shall we go?" she asked, anxious to get home and take the graduation gown off, run a hot bath, and then play with her children – and her husband – for the first time as a college graduate._

 _She set Alana down, saying, "You are getting heavy, pumpkin," and took her hand, following behind Tony, who had already started to walk toward the parking lot. As she squeezed her daughter's hand, her heart swelled with pride at the fact that she had a beautiful family, a college degree, and a future full of promise._

* * *

"Now there's one more person I need to thank in all this, and that's my wife, Ziva. Stand up, honey." She stood up next to him, and he wrapped his arm around her waist as she leaned toward him into the kiss he planted on her forehead. "Some of you know that fifteen years ago, I trained Ziva to dance with me for an audition that landed me in this very company after she – accidentally – broke my original partner's leg. Ever since then, she's been with me, through thick and thin, supporting my dancing and even taking a turn around the floor with me from time to time." He paused, and Ziva smiled, thinking briefly of the weekly beginner classes they'd taken together not long after Ava was born. Tony had acted like he'd never taken a dance lesson in his life and completely baffled the studio director with his talent, until he'd finally confessed who he was.

"So as today is a party celebrating my retirement, I decided that it would only be fitting if my final dance as a professional was with the person who got me here, doing the dance that started it all. Honey?" He nodded toward the dance floor, and Ziva took her place on the other side of the room. They'd practiced for several weeks, finding that their old routine came back to them easily even after all this time, and they were ready to show it off one final time.

Tony handed the microphone to the deejay and took his place on the dance floor, throwing a grin in Ziva's direction. She returned the smile, nothing but love in her eyes. The music started, and Ziva stepped toward him, letting him take her hand and spin her into the dance.

It was as if no time had passed at all, and they were still young. Although they'd spent time rehearsing again like old times, all of that seemed to wash away as the music played behind them and their family and friends sat by, cheering them on.

All these years, and she still felt a tingle in her arms whenever he pulled her close, her breath still caught in her throat as he gazed into her eyes and led her around the floor. Even with all eyes upon them, Ziva still felt as though she was the only person in Tony's world when she was in his arms, and as he spun her away from him and back into his arms, executing their difficult footwork sequence with ease, she felt as though they were engaging in their own special and intimate form of foreplay as they moved in tandem.

Finally, they stepped apart, executing the short portion of the dance they'd do separately, and when the music began to swell Tony turned to Ziva expectantly and she took her prep and stepped into his waiting arms and over his head, beaming with pride as he spun her around the room before setting her down, catching her expertly and gazing deeply into her eyes as she returned to the frame, letting him guide her through the remainder of the dance, completing one last turn sequence, and stepping back toward him and into the ending pose.

The room erupted in cheers and several loud whistles, and Ziva felt her face flush as she looked at Tony, who took her hand and led her in a humble bow, then pulled her toward him and into a tight hug, whispering, "Thank you for sharing this with me," and she knew he was not only talking about this dance.

She tightened her arms around him, feeling tears welling up in her eyes as she responded, "I wouldn't have wanted to share my life with anyone else," and kissing him lightly on the neck.

Pulling apart slightly, Tony turned to the deejay, motioning for him to start playing more music, then beckoned toward the crowd as a fun, lighthearted song began to boom through the speakers. Tony wrapped his arms around Ziva's waist and spun her so her back was to him, pulling her close and rocking her back and forth to the music as their friends began to spill onto the floor, moving to the beat.

The party atmosphere began to swell around them, and Ziva watched as people she loved celebrated throughout the room. Tali and Seth were wrapped around each other, swaying to the music and laughing at some inside joke. They lived together in Israel, but they came to visit at several times a year, and had taken time off especially for this occasion.

Alana was chatting with the son of one of Tony's colleagues, a cute boy who had apparently caught her interest, while Andy and Ava were darting in between dancers and taking turns chasing after one another, caught in some sort of game of tag with some of the other children in attendance.

Mandy and Bev had started a miniature Congo line, and Ziva watched with interest as Delilah coaxed Tim out of his seat to join in, smiling as she noted that whatever foot everyone else was on, Tim was on the opposite.

Tony noted her gaze, and laughed in her ear, murmuring, "He's absolutely hopeless, isn't he? But at least everyone's having fun."

She turned her head toward him, noting that he had leaned forward so that their faces were only inches apart. "Are _you_ having fun?" she asked, a knowing smile on her face.

"Every day for the rest of my life," he answered, leaning down to place his lips on hers. Sighing, Ziva leaned back into him and into the kiss, parting her mouth and allowing him entrance, a long, slow embrace. Breaking apart for just a moment, she turned to face him so she could kiss him properly, wrapping her arms around his neck and diving in, his arms pulling her tightly against him, kissing her like it was the first time, the last time, and every time in between.

* * *

" _So there's one final thing I want to do for the party," Tony began, lowering his voice, as they sat at their dining room table, where all of their plans were laid out before them._

" _And that is?" she asked, turning her head and leaning toward him, sensing he wanted to keep this plan quiet, despite the fact that all of the kids had gone to bed hours ago._

" _I think we should perform the dance. The audition dance. One last time," he responded, reaching over and taking her hand in his. They'd danced rather casually together throughout the years, performing at exhibitions from time to time, but nothing terribly difficult since the audition piece._

 _Ziva's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you crazy? You cannot lift me, Tony, I probably weigh a ton after all this time!"_

" _Okay first of all, you do not weigh a ton, not even close. And second of all, try me," he said, standing up and leading her by the hand to the back door, inviting her outside with him._

" _Why are we going outside?" she asked, though she continued to follow him._

" _I want you to try the lift again. I'll show you that we can still do it, even after all these years."_

" _And if we fall? The kids-" he interrupted her._

" _Will be fine, because we won't fall. I promise. Just try it," he said, opening up the back door and leading her into the yard, where they would have plenty of space – mostly overhead – to practice the lift._

" _Okay, Tony, I will try it," she said, sounding doubtful, but she backed away from him, getting the right distance between them, took her prep step, and ran toward him, finding that despite his age and her added weight, he could still lift her with ease, and although she yelped with surprise as he picked her up, she found that he could, in fact, still do it._

 _He let her back down from the lift the same way he always had, and she fell easily into his arms, breathlessly looking into his eyes, which were shining with pride. "All these years later, and we still have it," he beamed, and Ziva closed the gap between them, kissing him hungrily under the night sky._

* * *

 **This is it, you guys, the conclusion to this story. I hope it has been everything you've all hoped for, and then some. Thank you all for your lovely reviews, so many of you have been with this story from the beginning and it makes me so happy to see your comments. This has been my first** _ **purely**_ **AU fic and it has turned out better than I could have hoped. I'm so, so happy that so many of you came along on this ride with me.**

 **(Also, if I may indulge in a headcanon about my own fic for a moment – I believe that they actually got pregnant during that second smut scene, the one in Chapter 6.)**

 **Until next time. ~Julia**


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